Disconnected
by rlassie
Summary: Fred is dead. And George can't handle it. So he does the only thing he can think of to make it all better, inadvertently dragging one bushy-haired witch along with him. The only problem? The device ends up sending them back a lot further then he thought it would, causing a whole world of problems. Can they resist the temptation? Slash, but not twincest. Rating may go up.
1. Empty half

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, a number of things would have turned out differently.

**Quick A/N – Okay, so I know that this is another time-turner fic. But there must be a reason why so many get written – maybe because they're just so damn enjoyable lol. I am hoping that mine is a little different though, as I'm sure many do. Fingers crossed! Right, read on, enjoy, and please let me know what you think!**

**Chapter One – Empty half**

* * *

_The air was filled with dust and debris. Spells shot left, right and centre, screams of pain and desperation accompanying every wave of a wand. He ran as fast as he could, his lungs constricting and his heart thumping, as he ducked and dodged, firing off random spells when he had to. His eyes shot from place to place, probing every aspect of the battle scene, searching. _

_Always searching. Desperately searching._

_Where was he? Where was he? They'd been together from the moment the battle begun, until they'd separated. Now something was wrong. He could feel it. Something was going to happen._

_Something bad._

_He blasted a Death Eater out of his way, ignoring the sting on his shoulder where a spell found it's mark. He had to find him. He had to!_

_A sob choked in his throat as he spun round in a circle, searching, searching, searching. And then there he was. Standing tall and proud, a silly grin on his face, aimed at his older brother. He sighed in relief, his heart settling a little. There he was. Just there._

_His settling heart exploded in his chest, as the one he was searching for was suddenly no longer standing just there. Instead, he was on the ground. Lying on the ground, covered in concrete, blood trickling from his mouth. _

_Staring._

_Staring, but not seeing anything._

_Just staring._

_No._

_No. No. _

_NO!_

_FRED!_

"FRED!"

George Weasley's scream echoed off the walls as he shot up in bed, fear and grief pulsing through his veins as his breath rattled in his lungs. His eyes bulleted around the room, searching, as he had in his dream. His nightmare.

Always searching.

But there was nothing to find. His twin was dead. He'd died in the Final Battle. Not killed by a Death Eater, but by a falling wall. Crushed to death under a pile of rock and stone.

His breath lodged itself in his throat, escaping in short, little pants, as his panic escalated to unbearable levels. His hands came up to clutch at his head, his knees drew up, and George began to rock, his eyes screwed shut tight.

Fred. Fred. Fred. Oh, Merlin, Fred!

Dry sobs shook his body, one that most people would describe as skeletal. His traitorous heart screamed in his chest, expanding and beating so rapidly, he thought he was going to die from the sound of it. He wanted to die from the sound of it. A gurgling, keening groan escaped his lips, filling the silent room, and he flinched away from the sound.

Why couldn't it have been him? Why couldn't it have been him?

His head shot round as his door crashed open, and his mother ran into room, Ginny and Hermione right behind her. Molly was at his side in an instant, her chubby arms circling him in an attempt to comfort. It didn't work.

"George. Georgie, Georgie. It's alright. It's okay. It was only a dream. Only a dream, baby boy. I'm here. I'm here."

"No it wasn't" George croaked, cringing away from her. "It wasn't just a dream. He's dead. Fred's dead."

A sob escaped Molly before she could prevent it.

"I know love. I know he is. And I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I'm here. I'm here."

George's hands dropped to fall onto the bed, and he stared down at them as his mother rocked him from side to side, crooning little words and sounds that were meant to comfort him. They didn't. Nothing could. The only thing that could make him feel better was to have his twin back.

And that wasn't going to happen.

Maybe.

Or maybe more then maybe. Because this was the last straw. He couldn't handle it anymore. He just couldn't.

Not anymore.

He blinked as a small pair of hands entered his line of vision and took his own, tugging on them until his head came up. He stared at his little sister, who had crawled up onto the bed beside him, and was now cradling his hands against her cheek. Tears poured down over them silently, and something shifted and woke a little in his chest. He didn't want his sister crying. He hated seeing her upset.

With this in mind, he tried his best to give the impression that he was okay. He tried to pretend that he wasn't dead inside, right along with his twin. His hand turned in her grasp until he was cupping her cheek, and he smiled, or at least tried to.

"Don't cry Midget. It'll be okay" he whispered hoarsely. A wide smile broke across Ginny's face at his words, and she leaned into his hand. His grief faded just a tiny bit at the movement. He'd made her smile. That was good.

Fred would be proud.

Pain tore through him again and his face twisted. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. If he didn't at least give the impression that he'd be able to handle the rest of the night on his own, his mother would never leave the room.

While he loved his mother with everything he had left in him, her constant presence was smothering, and only served to extend his grief. Not that he'd ever tell her that. She was reacting the only way she knew how.

"I'm fine now Mum. You can go back to bed. All of you can" he said in a dull voice. Molly frowned at him, her hand gently brushing back his unruly, mess of red hair. He needed a haircut.

"Are you sure Georgie? I can stay" she asked softly. George nodded, his gaze fixed on the wall in front of him.

"No, go. You need to sleep. I'll be fine" he whispered.

"I can stay George" Ginny murmured. He met her eyes and slowly shook his head.

"No love. You need to sleep as well. Harry won't be happy with me if you collapse from exhaustion" he said with a weak semblance of a smile. Ginny rolled her eyes, and Hermione's deep chuckle filled the grief-heavy room.

"He's right Gin. Let's leave him be, huh? He'll be fine" she said with a smile and pointed look at Molly, who looked pained, but nodded and finally released her death-grip on her son. George moved his shoulders in relief and nodded gratefully at the younger witch, who smiled back.

"Okay then. Let's all get some sleep. I'll make you a full English for breakfast tomorrow. How's that sound Georgie?" Molly suggested gently, still caressing his hair.

"Great Mum" George answered, both of them pretending that if she made it, he might actually eat it. Molly sighed and stepped back, holding her hand out to her youngest.

"Try and get some sleep, George, please" Ginny pleaded quietly, laying her head against his shoulder. George sighed and rested his cheek on top of it.

"I'll try" he whispered, and Ginny's arms came round him, squeezing him tightly, before she pulled back, climbed off the bed and took her mother's hand. With one last look, the mother and daughter left the room, both pair of shoulders slumped.

Hermione was about to follow them when George's voice stopped her. She turned back around and looked at him questionably, her bushy brown hair puffing out everywhere.

"Can you stay for a bit? I want to… talk."

Hermione blinked, her surprise at his request clear in her expressive brown eyes. George was sure that she was wondering what he wanted to talk about, and with her of all people. The twins and their brother's friend and paramour had never really been very close. They were just too different. The extent of their relationship consisted of her yelling at them for testing products on first-years, or when said products gave her a black eye.

"Sure George" she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed, curiosity shining from her eyes. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Your Time-Turner" he said bluntly, and Hermione's eyes widened in astonishment before zooming around the room, looking anywhere but at him.

"What? I, ah, I-I have no idea what you're talking about" she muttered shiftily. George rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Sure you don't, 'Mione" he said, calling her by the name he and Fred would quite often hear Ron use. Hermione's gaze shot round to meet his, her mouth open slightly at the familiar name coming from an unfamiliar source.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. It's the thing you're wearing around your neck at this very moment, and have been wearing since Dumbledore left it to you. I bet Harry and Ron don't know about that little gift, do they?" he accused softly.

Hermione's eyes widened further and her hand automatically came up to clutch at her chest, before she seemed to realize what she was doing and dropped it again. Her eyes narrowed at him.

"You're right, they don't. So how do you?" she asked, no longer bothering to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. A ghost of a smile touched George's lips, and his ocean-blue eyes blurred with memories.

"Extendable Ears are brilliant things" he said simply, not elaborating any further. Hermione huffed at the explanation that didn't really explain a thing.

"Fine. So, what about it then?" she asked. George's eyes cleared and he met her gaze determinedly.

"Dumbledore must have given it to you for a reason" he stated, staring hard. Hermione frowned for a long moment, confusion running rampant across her features, before her realization replaced it and her eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, Merlin, George, _no!_ Get that thought out of your head right now! You can't!"

"Why not?!" George demanded. "Just far enough to pull him out of the way!"

"No. No, no, no, no! You can't George! You really _can't! _Playing with time is very, very dangerous! You could destroy everything!"

"Everything's destroyed anyway!" he shouted, before swallowing hard and taking a deep breath. He did not want his mother running back into the room.

"So many people died Hermione! Professor Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, and many, many more! I'm not asking to go back and change all that! Just him! Just F-Fred!"

His voice broke and he looked down, blinking rapidly. He would not break down. Not when he needed everything he had to get his point across to the annoyingly stubborn goody-two-shoes sitting in front of him.

"So much light left the world a month ago. Why not bring one little patch back? Cheer up this whole family, so that we're not all walking around like Inferi?"

Pain and panic skittered across Hermione's face, and her mouth twisted into a conflicted grimace. Her hands shook as they reached up to tug at her hair.

"George, Oh Godric, I can't! I'm so sorry, but I can't! You have no idea what it could do! Who might end up dying instead!" she moaned, her eyes closed.

Which meant she didn't see the dark, single-minded expression that fill George's eyes.

"I'm don't really think I was asking for your permission."

Hermione's head shot up, her eyes opening in shock at his deceptively calm statement. She shrieked as the only surviving Weasley twin lunged at her, her hand scrambling for her wand.

"No! George, don't!" she screeched as the redhead landed on top of her, both of them tumbling back off the bed and hitting the floor with a solid thump.

George bared his teeth and clawed at her throat, rage filling him. It was a simple month! Why wouldn't she co-operate?!

Hermione sobbed with fear and desperation as she tried to push him away, tried to stop him from reaching the thing that could make everything even worse. Her efforts were futile though. George was much bigger and strong than her, even in his debilitated state. He was able to bat her hands away with ease, and he soon had the Time-Turner out from under her nightshirt. He sat up the instant he did, staring at it eagerly.

"No, no, George, please, don't" Hermione begged. George ignored her, turning the tiny instrument over in his hands.

That is until he got a face full of wand.

His head came up slowly, and he stared at the terrified witch whose wand was shaking in her hand. She was balancing on her knees and one hand, her head pulled towards him by the chain around her neck. George swallowed.

"Would you really use that one me, 'Mione?" he whispered. A sob hitched and shuddered out of her at his words, but her wand didn't move, and neither did the resolve in her eyes. George's own eyes widened as he realized that yes, yes she would use it one him.

Hermione Granger had helped save the world once; she wouldn't hesitate to do it again. Not if her friends and loved ones were threatened.

Desperation filled him, and he jerked the Turner towards him, scrambling to twist it in time, before a hex prevented him. Hermione shrieked again as the door burst open and shouts filled the room. She frantically tried to stop herself from falling forward into him, having no luck. She fell against him heavily, pushing him backwards and knocking his hand, as people dived in their direction.

Her fall made the Time-Turner spin.

And spin. And spin.

The world began to spin as well, and George gulped, his arms tightening around Hermione. It was working! He had to go! He had to go _now!_

Within the rapidly spinning world, George twisted on the spot. And both him, and the brightest witch of her age, were gone.


	2. Touching base

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter? What's that you say? Nope, not mine. Plot is though. All mine!

**A/N – Wow. Wow, wow, wow! I have **_**never **_**had such a big response to a first chapter before! You people are AWESOME! Thank you so very much for the follows and reviews… it just blows me away. :D  
Speaking of reviews, a guest reviewer (thanks for reviewing, whoever you are!) asked if George and Hermione were going to start getting along, and then mentioned a triangle. This made me realize that I didn't put the pairings in the summary. Yes, George and Hermione will start getting along eventually, but there won't be a George/Hermione/Sirius triangle, or at least not in the way the guest reviewer was thinking. I already have very distinct pairings for this story. There will of course be Hermione/Sirius, but George… well; you'll have to read this chapter to find that out, as there are very large hints in it. Keep in mind the aforementioned slash. :) Right, enough babble from me, on with the story!**

**Chapter Two – Touching base**

_Within the rapidly spinning world, George twisted on the spot. And both him, and the brightest witch of her age, were gone._

* * *

Remus Lupin walked along the silent halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, slumping slightly as he tried to get back to his Common Room as quickly as possible. It was two weeks before the full moon, and he wasn't in a very good mood. His bones were just beginning to like they were made of glass, and as it was also two o'clock in the morning, and he'd been pulled from his bed after a very full day, he'd had about as much as he could handle.

He scowled to himself as he headed up the stairs, praying that they wouldn't decide to move on him. This was all Sirius's fault! The only reason he should have been up this late, especially at this time of the month – and didn't that just sound wrong? – was if he was up studying for NEWTS. But _noooo,_ here he was, having to go out and cover one of his best mates asses because in his haste to get some girls knickers, he'd forgotten the most important rule of travelling the castle at night.

Never leave without the Map.

He shook his head. He'd created a diversion and risked getting caught by Filch, so that Sirius and his companion were able to sneak out the broom closet, half dressed, without getting caught themselves. Never mind the fact that he was a Prefect, so he should have been the one doing the catching. Had James not been such a deep sleeper, he wouldn't have been out at all!

He sighed. All that trouble, just for a bit of female. It didn't make sense to Remus. Couldn't he give it a rest for once? He blinked at that thought, laughing aloud before remembering that he was all but invisible, so laughing wasn't such a good idea. Though it probably wouldn't matter much in this school. Random, invisible laughter wasn't really something out of the ordinary at Hogwarts.

_And the day Sirius Black gives girls a rest, is the day the world comes to an end,_ he thought wryly, passing empty classroom after empty classroom. _Besides Mr Lupin, you certainly wouldn't say no if Billy Garlow asked you out for a midnight stroll, now would you? It was your choice to go help! Stop being so grumpy!_

He frowned. Why did his inner voice sound so much like Lily Evans?

_Because she's the most sensible person I know. Well, she is until James comes into the picture._

He chuckled to himself. James and Lily were certainly an enigma. Though she seemed to softening a bit, now that James was acting a little more mature.

Losing your father would do that to you.

It had been hard for James over the summer, and the strain of that had shown on his face when he'd started the new year. Lily, his lingering, much loved crush, had been one of the first to notice, which Remus had always found amusing, considering how much she claimed to hate the Head Boy. She'd shouted the train done the moment she'd found out who was her fellow Head. But James hadn't let it get to him, and he'd been acting just that little bit differently from the moment they'd stepped on the train. Remus knew that it was confusing the stuffing out of his obsession.

In the past, James had asked her out at least once a day. Now, it was barely once a week, if that. This turn of events had had a surprisingly adverse effect on Lily, so that she was now the one who seemed to be everywhere James was, instead of the other way around.

Remus smiled. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

He was just about to turn the corner and head up to the entrance to Gryffindor's Common Room, when a loud _crack_ rent the silence, followed by a tinkling sound, like breaking glass. He froze. That had sounded a lot like Apparition. How was that possible? You couldn't Apparate anywhere on Hogwarts grounds! Everyone knew that!

Well, people who paid attention knew that.

He spun around and ran back in the direction the sound had come from. The closer he got, the more confused he became. He could hear people taking now. A girl by the sounds of it. And she sounded both angry and frightened.

"Oh no. Oh, no, no, no! Bloody hell George, look what you've done! Look! I don't even know where we are! How are we going to get home?"

"We're at Hogwarts! Come on!" a second voice answered, sounding tired, desperate and distinctly male.

"Well of course we're at Hogwarts!" the female voice said in exasperation. "And stop it, we're not going anywhere! We're here, but the question is, whe-"

Remus interrupted her outburst by rounding the corner. What he came across made him stop dead. Directly in front of him was the tip of a wand, and it was pointing right at his nose. He gaped silently at it, feeling his eyes beginning to cross, before looking up to see who was threatening him, if that was what they were doing.

His mouth fell open as he stared into the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

They were beautiful. Utterly stunning. So incredibly full of fire and life that it took Remus's breathe away. He gulped, trying to pull himself out of those deep blue pools, only managing it when the owner of the eyes released him by looking him over and frowning. The wand didn't move.

"Who are you and where's the battle?" the owner demanded. Remus frowned as well, and since he was now able to breathe again, returned the look. What he saw shocked him.

The person holding the wand was male, the same male that had spoken before if he had to guess, but he was far from healthy. He was all skin and bone, said bones jutting out at all angles, giving the impression of a skin-covered dead man. That same skin was pale and almost translucent, making the freckles dotting it stand out all the more. On a healthy person, this wouldn't have looked bad, but on this man, it looked like he had a deadly disease. If he did, it would certainly explain the state he was in.

The only things alive about the man were his eyes, and the hair falling all over his forehead. It was the colour of fire, and even on the walking dead in front of him, it looked so incredibly touchable that Remus's hands itched. He found himself longing to bury his fingers in it, just to see if it was as heated and silky as it looked.

_For Merlin's sake Remus, stop drooling! There's nothing to drool over! This man looks like he's on deaths door, not to mention he's holding a wand on you! Your life could be in danger here, stop acting like an idiot!_

"Answer me!" the man yelled angrily as Remus silently rebuked himself. "Who the bloody hell are you, and where's the battle!?"

"What battle? There hasn't been a battle here in centuries! And I should be asking who _you_ are, not the other way around! How can you even see me?" Remus demanded, his own temper picking up. The man frowned at him again, his eyes flicking around the hallway desperately before focusing back on Remus, just as the Gryffindor was reaching for his wand.

"Don't move!" he bellowed. "You're not going to trick me! I know it's here, just as he is! Where is it? T-tell me!"

The last bit came out in an almost broken sob, and at that point, the girl made herself known again. She reached out and latched on to the man's wand arm, tugging at it in desperation.

"George, stop! Please, you have to calm down! If you actually looked around, you'd notice that this isn't what you wanted it to be! The battle isn't here, I don't think it will be for a very long time, and he isn't here either!"

Some of her words seemed to filter into the man's brain. He stilled, his wand still pointed at Remus, but his eyes flicked over to meet hers. Remus took the opportunity to pull his own wand, but he didn't raise it. He decided to keep it down at his side. Something wasn't right here, and he wasn't going to do anything drastic unless the threat level went up, or he figured out what was going on.

He tuned back into the confusing conversation between the two strangers. The girl was still pleading her case, for which Remus was very thankful for.

"Something went wrong, we went too far. I think no matter how hard you look, you're not going to find the battle or its results. And you're not going to find Fred either."

"He's… not here?" the man, George by the looks of it, whispered. Remus gasped as he spoke those three little words. He'd never heard someone sound so heartbroken before. It was like the man's chest had been ripped open.

"No, George. I'm so sorry, but no. He's not."

The sound that tore from the broken man's throat at her answer, sent chills down Remus's spine. It was like the howl of a wounded animal, long and drawn out, and it contained so much grief it was shocking. Remus's own heart began to ache in sympathy as the man ended on a whimper. He hadn't thought it was possible for one human being to feel that much pain.

The wand held against him fell, not ten seconds before its owner did. The broken man's leg gave out, and the girl let out a small cry of fright as her arms came around him. They both sunk to the floor, the man not showing any sign of acknowledgement to either the girl, or Remus. All the life had left his eyes before he crumbled, until they looked as dead as the rest of him.

Remus had never regretted anything more in his life.

Well, nearly.

The girl was just sitting there, her arms wrapped tightly around the man, when she suddenly lifted her head and looked directly at him. Remus frowned. How were they able to see him?! And more importantly, why was he still standing there? He should be getting Professor Dumbledore or McGonagall at the very least! He shouldn't just be hanging around! The man, a stranger, had held a wand on him!

"I know that this is probably the last thing you want to do, what with him acting the way he did before, but I'd really appreciate it if you would give me a hand to get him to the Hospital Wing" the girl said quietly, still looking straight at him. Remus frowned.

"How in Merlin's name can you see me?!" he demanded. The girl smiled wistfully.

"You'd be surprised at the things I can do" she said. "But please, I really do need to get him there, and I don't know the way. He's really very sick. Please, Remus, you have to help me."

Remus sighed and crouched down, calling himself all kinds of fool as his soft heart got the better of him. It was clear that the man was very unwell, and maybe not just physically. He couldn't just leave him lying there. It wouldn't be right.

He suddenly froze as what the girl had said ran back through his mind.

"I never told you my name" he said slowly and the girls eyes widened. She swallowed hard, her eyes darting, before she threw him a nervous smile.

"I know you didn't, but it's right there. On your badge" she said, nodding at his chest. Remus frowned and looked down. She was right. It was just there, printed clearly for the world to see.

_Remus Lupin. Prefect._

His frown deepened as confusion ran through him. Since when had his Prefect badge had his name on it? Since when had _any _Prefect badge had _anyone's_ name on them?

Something was definitely up.

He raised his head again and looked into the girl's eyes, eyes that were looking rather shifty.

"Who _are _you?" he whispered. The girl sighed.

"My name is Hermione, and this is George, my, ah, brother" she said, indicating the deathly silent man she was still holding. Remus raised an eyebrow. Her brother? They looked nothing alike.

Ignoring his disbelieving expression, the girl continued.

"We aren't bad people, far from it, believe me, and what George did to you, he only did because he's grieving and sick. He would have never maliciously set out to hurt you; he isn't that kind of person. I'm sure he'll apologize when he's able, but right now we really need the Hospital Wing. If you would be so kind to escort us, I'd be in your debt."

Remus searched her eyes. They were rather expressive and he'd bet his entire Gringotts Vault that the girl wasn't able to lie worth a damn, not that there was much in there. At the moment, her eyes looked completely earnest, very world-weary and not a little scared.

_Those aren't the eyes of a Death Eater,_ he thought, his gut backing him up.

Deciding to go with his gut, as it had never let him down before, he stood back up and raised his wand. The girl flinched at the movement and made a small sound of protest, until she realized that he wasn't going to attack them. He was instead, removing his Disillusionment and then conjuring a stretcher.

It didn't take as much convincing to get the man on the stretcher as Remus thought it would. He didn't make a sound, just stared almost vacantly. Remus found himself wishing that he could rewind time, just so that he could see those eyes bright with zest again. The man lay down on the stretcher at the girl's soft encouragement and closed his eyes, while the girl took the back, wand in hand, and Remus headed to the front. He picked the stretcher up, thanking his foresight for casting a charm that made their load as light as air, and began walking down the hallway, the girl following behind.

The only obstacle they came across on the way wasn't really an obstacle at all, which Remus found incredibly lucky. It wouldn't do to run into any other Prefects. He was walking along when he suddenly heard a crunch, making him frown down at his feet. There were glass and tiny bits of golden metal spread everywhere and he'd stepped on some. It was more annoying than anything, and Remus flicked his wand at it, Vanishing it in an instant. The girl behind him made a funny little sound when he did, but when he looked back over his shoulder, her gaze was on the man on the stretcher. The only thing he could read in her eyes was concern.

The whole way there, Remus found himself copying her. He continuously glanced over his shoulder at their patient, and he sighed in relief every time. Because even though he gave the appearance of the opposite, the rising and falling of his chest proved that, yes, the man _was_ still alive.

Though he looked like he wished he wasn't.


	3. Twinkling eyes

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: Hey you! Holt! Give that back! Harry Potter isn't yours! Stop thief! You'll just have to settle for the plot! Come back here!

**A/N – Guest: Thank you for your lovely comments and for reviewing. They really made me smile! As for how close Hermione and George will get, well, let's just say that they'll be friends at the least – which will be fun for some but not so much for others… the rest you'll just have to wait and see! :D  
Thanks everyone for reading, reviewing and following. Enjoy the next chapter!**

**Chapter Three – Twinkling eyes**

_The whole way there, Remus found himself copying her. He continuously glanced over his shoulder at their patient, and he sighed in relief every time. Because even though he gave the appearance of the opposite, the rising and falling of his chest proved that, yes, the man was still alive. _

_Though he looked like he wished he wasn't._

* * *

As they walked down the surprising silent hallway, Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. She was extremely worried. She was also incredibly conscious of where they were, and that if she or George put one foot wrong, they could change everything.

She knew that that had been George's intention when he'd pulled this foolhardy stunt. But she also knew that he was out of his mind with grief and probably physically sick as well. He hadn't been thinking of the big picture – he hadn't been thinking at all – when he'd lunged at her in a desperate attempt to get his twin back. But Hermione was _very_ good at thinking of the big picture. It was one of the reasons why the twins had always thought she walked around with a stick up her backside, though they'd used considerably cruder language in their description.

She frowned down at her fellow time traveller as they continued to walk. He was taking being carried around like a docile little lamb, not showing any signs of argument or protest. Though she didn't know him very well, she did know that this quiet complacency was completely out of character. As she reached out to brush back his hair, worry of another variety enveloping her.

She'd never seen anyone grieve as hard as George was. Not even Harry had shown this kind of… she couldn't even think of a word for it. It had terrified her when he'd just shut down and collapsed in on himself. For something like this to happen to someone as upbeat and optimistic as George Weasley, someone so full of life going this far… she didn't know if he'd be able to come back from it.

She scowled to herself. What was she thinking? Of _course_ he'd come back from it! It was just a little bump in the road, that's all. And if he didn't look like he was trying, well, she'd just have to _make_ him try. She was not going to cause the Weasley's more grief by bringing home a son who was alive but no longer living. It just wasn't going to happen. She refused to let it happen.

George Weasley would get past this, and return to the annoyingly cheerful troublemaker he was, if it killed her.

That decided, she glanced up to see how far they had to go, catching Remus's eye in the process. He looked away quickly, but not before she saw the suspicion dominating his gaze. She frowned at the back of his head. To look around and see George pointing his wand at a many-years-younger Remus Lupin had completely thrown her for a loop. But it had helped as well. Professor Lupin – Remus, he wasn't a professor yet – had gone to Hogwarts in the seventies, so at least she had a slight idea of what time they were in. She could have kicked herself for that faux pas with his name earlier. If she hadn't thought quickly and transfigured his badge… but she had so there was nothing to worry about.

She was just thinking that she needed to get in contact with the Headmaster and sort out a way to get her and George home, ASAP, when her hauling companion stopped.

"We're here," Remus said quietly, looking back over his shoulder again. He pushed open the large doors and led the way into the room. Hermione felt a little better when she saw the familiar rows of beds. The Wing hadn't changed much since she'd last seen it, and neither it seems, had its Matron. Despite the late hour – or at least Hermione thought it was late – Madam Pomfrey was standing just outside her office, talking quietly with… Hermione gasped.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she blurted before suddenly realizing what she'd said, and only just stopping herself from slapping her hand over her mouth. Merlin, she was daft! She wasn't supposed to know who he was!

The wizened old wizard looked over and smiled at her briefly, his faded blue eyes brimming with curiosity. Both he and Madam Pomfrey hurried over as Hermione and Remus put George on one of the beds.

"Hello my dear," Dumbledore said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"You know who she is Professor?" Remus asked.

"Indeed," he said, making Hermione stare at him. "I think Madam Pomfrey has it from here, Mr Lupin. You may go back to your dormitory."

"Oh… but I was thinking-"

"It's late Mr Lupin. Far too late for you to be out of bed. You need your rest," Dumbledore said pointedly. Remus frowned, his eyes going to from Hermione to George, where he seemed to linger. He sighed and looked at Hermione again.

"I hope he feels better soon," he said, compassion and sympathy in his voice. Hermione smiled at him.

"I hope so too. Thank you for your help," she said as the Matron bustled around the bed, mumbled words like 'malnourished' and 'dehydrated'. Remus nodded before looked at the Headmaster one more time. When Dumbledore smiled at him, the teenager sighed and headed for the exit, continuously glancing back over his shoulder as he walked away. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as the doors closed behind him.

She looked over as the Mediwitch waved her wand, conjuring a multitude of bottles and began slowly feeding them to George. The redhead wasn't putting up in fight at being force-fed. His eyes had opened when the stretcher had merged with the bed, and he was currently staring blankly at the opposite wall – functioning when he had to, but otherwise not showing any animation at all. It was very disquieting.

"How long has he been like this, dear? And what led to it?" the Madam asked. Hermione frowned.

"He lost a… a brother a month ago. They were very close, as close as siblings can get, and he's taking it really hard. He stopped eating round about the same time, and I don't think he's been getting much sleep. I've never seen him shut down like this before though," she said.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "It's a terrible thing to lose someone you love, and different people handle it in different ways," she said.

"Will he be okay?" Hermione asked.

"We'll deal with the physical problems first, and then work on the emotional. The physical are bad enough at the moment." She looked over at the Headmaster. "He'll have to be here for a couple of days so I can concentrate on getting him up to a healthy body weight again, but this is all I can do at the moment. That last potion should put him to sleep. If you don't mind, I'll retire."

"Yes, of course Poppy, thank you," the Headmaster answered. The Matron nodded before reaching out and laying her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"Don't worry dear; he'll be up and about in no time."

"Thank you Madam Pomfrey," Hermione murmured. The Matron blinked in surprise and frowned slightly, sharing another look with Dumbledore before leaving the room.

"And with that, my dear, I think you better tell me who you two are and how you know our names," Dumbledore suggested. Hermione cringed before looked at him in confusion.

"Sir, you don't know who I am? You said before that you did."

"Suspicious minds ask many questions, Miss…?"

Hermione panicked. Did she tell him her real name? Granger wasn't a magical surname, so there was no chance of him connecting her to anyone, but Weasley definitely was. He could see the colour of George's hair – if she mentioned his last name, a smart man like him would be able to connect the dots in an instant. Plus there was the fact that she'd already told Remus they were related…

"Brown," she said, saying the first surname that popped into her head. "My name is Hermione Brown, and this is George Brown, my brother." Then, remembering the disbelief on Remus's face, added – "my adopted brother."

Dumbledore smiled again, and Hermione could clearly see that he didn't believe her. She also knew that he was probably taking the correct information straight from her head. But, as she'd never studied Occlumency, there wasn't anything she could do about it.

"Miss Brown. Very well then. I gave Mr Lupin the impression that I knew you because I can't very well have the students find out that someone got into the castle without my knowledge, now can I? How would that look? They would lose their faith in me quite quickly, I expect."

He stroked his beard and pursed his lips. "Mind enlightening an old man on exactly _how _you got in?"

Hermione frowned. "Sir, I honestly have no idea. You're not supposed to be able to Apparate on the school grounds, yet my, ah, brother somehow did it. One moment we we're home, the next we were here. It makes no sense."

"Well, you obviously came through time," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. Hermione gasped and looked at him.

"T-time, sir? I-I have no idea what you're talking about!"

The Headmasters eyes twinkled with mirth as the young witch spluttered her way through the lie. He reached out and patted her hand.

"Don't worry Miss Brown; you're not in any trouble. It was obviously an accident. And the reason I know it happened is because there is a way to Apparate at Hogwarts. The wards stopping people from moving from one place to another are compromised when time travel is added to the mix – though it might be best if you don't mention that to anyone. I shudder to think how some of my students would use that information if they knew."

"Yes sir," Hermione said quietly. "So you knew we were here? And came to meet us? How'd you know to meet us here?"

He smiled gently and held up his hand as her questions ran together. "One question at a time, my dear. Yes, I knew someone had broken through the wards, and yes, I came down to see what was going on. I came here because Apparition through time travel is highly unstable, and can be quite dangerous at times. I figured that this might be the first place my sneaks would go. I'm actually surprised you aren't hurt."

"How did you know we would go here? We could have been Dark, attempting to get into the castle and hurt people – in which case, the Hospital Wing would be the last place we could go," Hermione pointed out. Dumbledore nodded.

"Excellent point. As I said, no one knows about the fault in the wards, that much I'm sure of, so I trusted that it was an accident and came here first. If you had have been Dark, you wouldn't have lasted long. I would have made sure of that."

Hermione stared at him, and then turned back to George, who had finally fallen asleep. She shook her head in exasperation. Harry had always said that Dumbledore trusted too easily – though his trust had been honoured in the end. She couldn't imagine blindly trusting someone she'd never met, though that might have a lot to do with living through a war. She was a _lot_ less trusting then the nearly 12-year-old girl who had started Hogwarts so eagerly.

"So you came from another year – the future I'm guessing, going by your clothing," Dumbledore said, gesturing at George, who was in pyjamas. Hermione looked down and suddenly realized that she was sitting there in a nightgown, and that the Headmaster was dressed very similar. She blushed furiously and looked at George again, berating herself for having such a reaction. She'd seen both Harry and Ron in a lot less during their year on the run. She'd been fine with that. Why was she now acting like an innocent schoolgirl because she'd seen her Headmaster in his night clothes?

_Remus saw me like this as well. Great way to make a first impression…_

She snorted to herself. _Stop worrying about what people think! Even if you been in full dress robes, you wouldn't have left a good impression! George had his wand in your favourite Professors face, for Godric's sake!_

She pushed her churning thoughts aside and looked back at the elderly wizard sitting beside her.

"Yes, we came from the future," she answered.

"And you got here by…?"

She grimaced. "A Time-Turner. George was trying to go back to stop his brother dying and sent us back too far."

Dumbledore frowned and cocked his head. "Curious."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in question. "What is sir?"

The Headmaster stroked his beard again.

"In this time, my dear, Time-Turners cannot take someone back further than a few hours. It isn't possible for someone to go back years." He looked at her, eagerness shining in his eyes. "Do you have the device on you?"

"No sir," she whispered, despair running through her. They couldn't use a Turner to get back? What were they going to do? "It smashed when we arrived. I can't even give you the pieces, as Remus Vanished them before I could stop him. I'm sorry."

Dumbledore's face fell, but he still patted her knee in comfort. "Not to worry Miss Brown, we'll figure something out. You can stay here in the meantime. How old are you? We could slot you and your brother into one of the years."

Hermione smiled widely. "Oh, yes, yes, that would be brilliant! I didn't attend my seventh year and George only finished half of his! But… you might be able to fit me in Professor, I'm only 18, but George is 20. That's a little old even for seventh year, isn't it?" she queried.

She couldn't help the excitement she felt at his idea. It hadn't been possible for her to go back to Hogwarts that year, as much of the castle needed desperate repair, so the thought of completing her seventh year, even if it was in another time period… she was thrilled.

But she wasn't leaving George. If he couldn't stay here, neither would she. It was as simple as that.

"That's alright Miss Brown; I think we can make an exception. He doesn't look much older than the other seventh year boys at the moment, so it shouldn't be a problem." He looked at her curiously. "Why didn't you attend your seventh year? I take it you went here; you knew Madam Pomfrey and myself without being told whom we were. You seem like a smart girl. Why would you miss your final year?"

Hermione swallowed hard.

"I, ah… I'd rather not talk about that, if you don't mind Professor," she said apologetically. "If I say too much, it could change the future in cataclysmic ways. It's not something I'm willing to risk."

Dumbledore studied her for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I understand you reasons Miss Brown. I'd probably do the same thing. Well, we'll come up with a cover story for you and your brother tomorrow, and the two of you can start when he gets better. What house were you two in?"

"Gryffindor," she answered, relived that the Professor wasn't pushing. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to continue standing up to him. The Headmaster nodded again.

"So Gryffindor you shall be in again then. I'll organize it with Professor McGonagall."

He stood up, his bones creaking in protest.

"But now I think it's time we all get some sleep. I'm not as young as I once was, I'm afraid, and I need all the beauty sleep I can get. You can stay here with your brother. Madam Pomfrey won't mind if you use one of the other beds. I'll come see you in the morning."

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Try not to worry too much my dear. We'll get you home eventually."

_Hopefully before we destroy the future, _Hermione thought. She sighed and Dumbledore squeezed her shoulder again, before giving it a pat and turning towards the door.

"Goodnight Miss Brown, we'll see each other in a few hours," he said, smiling gently over his shoulder.

"Goodnight Professor," the time traveller answered. Dumbledore smiled again and headed for the entrance.

"Wait, Professor!" she called, getting to her feet as she suddenly remembered at very important question. Dumbledore stopped and turned to look at her in question.

"What year is it?"

The Headmaster blinked and shook his head. "Forgive me Miss Brown, I should have told you earlier. It's 1978."

Hermione swallowed again, her eyes widening in shock. 1978? Oh Merlin!

"Ah, great. Thank you. Ah, goodnight," she said, hurriedly sitting back down.

"Goodnight Miss Brown," Dumbledore answered, amusement in his tone. She listened to him leaving and the moment the doors closed behind him, she slumped forward until her forehead hit the bed.

1978. Of all the years, why did it have to be 1978? If they did one thing wrong, put a single foot out of line and changed something, Harry might not be born! This was a vital year for his existence, and that thought was horrifically stressful. She raised her head, her eyes focusing on the redhead sleeping peacefully in front of her, and waved her wand to pull the covers up over him.

"You better get yourself better soon George Weasley, because if I end up having to deal with this mess on my own, I'll hex you until your bollocks fall off," she murmured, determination in every line of her body.


	4. The foursome

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: Naaa na na na na na na! Don't own HP! Naaa na na na na na na! Don't own HP! Lord, I'm weird…

**Chapter Four – The foursome**

"_You better get yourself better soon George Weasley, because if I end up having to deal with this mess on my own, I'll hex you until your bollocks fall off," she murmured, determination in every line of her body._

* * *

"Miss Brown? Miss Brown! Miss Brown, time to wake UP!"

Hermione woke with a snort, startled beyond belief. She jumped at the loud voice in her ear, her movement pushing the chair half of her body had been sleeping in, backwards. Her legs went with the chair, the other half of her body following behind so suddenly, that she would have toppled onto the floor if Dumbledore hadn't grabbed her by the waist. Hermione looked up into his amused eyes sheepishly.

"I apologize, Miss Brown, I shouldn't have shouted. But you were rather deeply asleep," the Headmaster said as he helped Hermione back into the chair. "Why were you sleeping in a chair when there are plenty on delightfully comfortable beds around?"

Hermione shrugged, looking slightly confused. "I don't think I got the chance to move to a bed, Professor. I must have fallen asleep here."

"Then I insist that you get some proper rest today, because one has to be awfully exhausted to fall asleep in these chairs," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. Hermione nodded, arching her back to relieve the aching. Those chairs _were _hard.

"What time is it?" she asked, pushing her hair back. It was as unruly and wild as ever, and at the moment seemed to want to spend most of its time in her eyes and mouth. In other words, it was annoying the shite out of her.

"Just after ten in the morning. I came late because I thought you might enjoy a lie in. Had I known you'd spent the night in a chair, I would have come earlier to try and spare you some pain," the Professor answered. Hermione grimaced.

"No, that's okay, it wouldn't have helped-"

She suddenly broke off with a gasp, her head shooting round to stare at the head of the bed she'd been half sleeping on, as she remembered the reason why she was in the Hospital Wing in the first place. As soon as she saw the occupant of said bed, her shoulders slumped.

George was clearly awake, as he was sitting up. But that was all he was doing. His gaze was fixed on the sheets in front of him, as blank as it had been the night before. It was also clear he'd been awake for a while, and that he hadn't made any effort to wake up his companion.

She sighed. At least the potions had worked some. He wasn't as scarily skinny as he had been the day before, but he also still had a way to go.

"Umm, George? It's Hermione. Can you hear me?" she said softly as she got out of the chair, her hand hesitantly reaching up to rest on his arm.

Silence. George didn't make a sound, not even acknowledging her existence. He just continued to stare at the bed.

"George? Come on Georgie, please answer me," Hermione whispered, hoping that the familiar nickname Molly called him would liven him up. Even an annoyed reaction was better than no reaction at all.

Unfortunately, the latter was what she got. Her spirits plummeted as the staring only continued. Dear Merlin, now what was she going to do? She needed George, not only in helping her find a way home, but also as someone to talk to! She couldn't handle this situation on her own! She didn't _want _to handle this situation on her own!

She jolted a little when a hand touched her shoulder and squeezed in comfort. She looked over and couldn't help feeling a little better when she met the kind eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"Don't worry so, Miss Brown. It has only been a day. He may need longer than that to pull himself together, but I'm sure he'll come back to you eventually."

"I hope so," Hermione whispered. It was disturbing to see someone so full of life, so… empty.

Dumbledore absently patted her shoulder and stepped back to let Madam Pomfrey in, who, after a thorough check-up, said the same thing as the Headmaster. The high point of the exam was that she didn't have to force-feed him. When the Mediwitch placed the potions in George's hand, he automatically brought them to his lips and drank them.

"This is a good thing, Miss Brown. It means he's still there. It's an encouraging improvement, and we'll give him a couple of days to come back to himself. If he hasn't after that, then we'll try magical intervention," the Matron explained.

"And if that doesn't work?" Hermione questioned quietly, her eyes on the statue in the bed.

"Let's not worry about that yet dear," Madam Pomfrey answered gently. "One step at a time, hmm?"

Hermione nodded and took a deep, shaky breath. Yes, one step at a time. He would get better step by step. He didn't really have a choice, because she'd already decided that she was going to make sure of it.

~0~

"Now, I thought you might want something else to wear besides your nightgown," Dumbledore said cheerfully after the Madam Pomfrey had left to attend other patients. He held out a red shirt, a pair of brown, bellbottom corduroy pants, and a very familiar looking set of robes.

"You can't wander the halls in your sleepwear," he continued with a smile as Hermione took the items, her lips twitching at the flared pants. "Though I'm sure the male population wouldn't mind, you might get a few looks from the other half."

Hermione shrugged and stepped over to the adjoining bed, pulling the curtain. She was used to looks. You couldn't be best friends with Harry Potter without getting a few looks. However, it would be nice to get out of her nightgown.

"I'm sorry I can't do anything about undergarments," Dumbledore called through the curtain, making the witch on the other side flush.

"No, ah, that's alright Professor, I've got that covered," she said hurriedly, conjuring what she needed. Truth be told, she could have probably conjured the clothes as well, or at least transfigured her nightgown. But the Headmaster had been kind enough to supply them, so she wasn't going to complain.

"Ah, good. I figured you would," Dumbledore chuckled. Hermione finished getting dressed, pulling back the curtain to smile at the elderly wizard. Dumbledore held out his arm in invitation.

"I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a bit peckish-"

They both looked over at a commotion at the entrance. The large door pushed open and four boys tumbled in, Madam Pomfrey right behind them, scolding all the way.

"There are _sick _people here boys, they don't need you four making them feel worse!" the Mediwitch hissed. One of the boys untangled himself form the others, a cocky grin in his face, his long raven hair falling in his storm-grey eyes.

"Aww, come on now Poppy, you know we make everyone feel better just by walking into the room," he cooed. The boy beside him snorted, brushing his hand down his front to straighten his wrinkled robes.

"Yeah, they feel better by leaving the room as quickly as possible," he muttered, earning a glare from his companion. The other two laughed at his comment.

"Nice one Moony," one of them said, his hazel eyes dancing with amusement.

"Hilarious!" the fourth squeaked, admiration dripping from the word.

"It wasn't that funny Wormtail," the first one scorned. Before the plump, runty boy could answer, Dumbledore interrupted.

"I see lessons aren't a priority today," he said, laughter in the brow he raised at them.

"When are they ever," the Matron muttered and all four boys grinned at her before turning back to their Headmaster. Hermione stared at them wide eyed. She was dumbstruck.

She stared at James in disbelief. Everyone always said the Harry looked like his father, but this… this was indescribable. The two could have been twins. If it wasn't for the dark eyes, Hermione would have sworn her best friend was standing right in front of her. She swallowed hard as loneliness surged through her. Merlin, it had only been a day, and she already missed him.

Her gaze flickered to Remus, and she was struck once again by how young he was. Though he was clearly showing the effects of being a werewolf, there was no grey in hair, no deep-set lines in his face, and not nearly as much exhaustion in his eyes. He looked carefree. Or as carefree as someone who was cursed could be.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the smallest boy in the group. Peter Pettigrew. Horrible, vile little creature. It took everything she had not to draw her wand and curse him where he stood. To betray your best mates was unthinkable, but to know that that betrayal would lead to death and still do it… he truly was evil.

Not wanting to look at him any longer, she glanced at the last member of the group. Her breath stuttered in her chest as her eyes clashed with the pair that were staring right back at her. She quickly looked away, her heart throbbing hard and fast.

Sirius Black. Harry's Godfather. A man she'd spent a summer living in the same house with, just as she'd spent that same summer telling herself to get over the stupid, annoying little crush she had on him. He'd been in his late 30's, and she'd been a girl of fifteen. No matter how many times she'd told herself that nothing could ever come of it, that he very clearly didn't see her as anything but his Godson's best friend, it certainly hadn't stop her heart from racing whenever he walked into the room – much as it was doing now.

Thankfully, she had gotten over it. Ron had helped there, though he hadn't known he had. But it meant that she'd been sadder then she should have been when Sirius had died. No one but Ginny had noticed, thankfully. She shuddered to think what Harry would've said if he'd known.

That had been three years ago in her time. He'd been handsome enough then, though his time in Azkaban had striped some of his looks. Now, though… she swallowed again, looking back at James. She'd never had any romantic feelings for Harry, so his father was safe to look at. She could never imagine thinking of Harry as sexy, or hot, or fit, or gorgeous, or-

She was startled out of her embarrassingly heated thoughts by the boy she was looking at.

"You're wrong sir, of course lessons are a priority," James Potter said with his trademark lopsided smile. "But Remus said we may have some new students, and we wanted to come make them feel welcome."

_More like suss out whether it's worth making them feel welcome,_ Hermione thought with a silent snort. _As well as stick your nose in where it doesn't belong._

"Right you are Mr Potter, we do have a couple of new students. Maybe if I introduce you, you might go out and learn something, as is the purpose of this school," Dumbledore said with a smile. He tugged a reluctant Hermione forward. She knew she'd have to meet them eventually, but she would have liked to be a little more prepared first.

"Boys, may I introduce Miss Hermione Brown. Hermione, this is Messrs James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and, of course, Remus Lupin, whom you met last night," the Headmaster said, indicating each boy in turn. "Miss Brown will be taking up residence in your House tomorrow, while her brother will be joining her when he has recovered."

Hermione looked at the man beside her in surprise. "Sir, I won't be waiting for George to get better?"

"No, my dear, I think it would be best if you met everyone and started your lessons as soon as possible," Dumbledore answered. "You are, of course, always welcome to come see him before and after class."

She nodded, knowing that this was a good idea. The rumours would only get worse if at least one of them didn't show their faces. They were going to be bad enough, with George being sick and the two of them popping up out of nowhere.

"How is your brother?" Remus asked gently, his eyes flitting over her shoulder. Hermione attempted to smile, though she was afraid it probably came off as more of a grimace.

"He's… not too good at the moment, but Madam Pomfrey said he's showing signs of improvement," she said, the worry in her tone very easy to read.

"What's wrong with him?" Peter blurted out and then yelped and whined when James smacked him over the back of the head. Hermione glared at him.

"He's sick!" she snapped, sighing when four pairs of eyes widened as she realized she'd just made herself more interesting to the nosy seventh-years. "It's not really anyone's business but George's what's wrong with him, and I'd thank you to respect his privacy. Who and what he tells when he gets better is up to him," she said stiffly, staring at the door above Peter's head.

"Right, we understand," Remus said hurriedly. He threw a glare at Peter as well, who was still grumbling and rubbing the back of his head.

"Well, if that's all boys, I was about to escort Miss Brown out for a bite to eat," Dumbledore said.

"We'll take her Professor," Sirius spoke for the first time, all but purring, his seductive eyes very firmly fixed on the intriguing new girl. Hermione did her best to ignore him. "I'm sure she'll find it a much more… _enjoyable_ experience with people her own age."

Dumbledore paused and looked thoughtful.

"I'm quite positive that wasn't supposed to be an insult, Mr Black, so I won't take it as one," he said, and Sirius's head snapped back to him, his eyes popping as he realized what he'd said to his Headmaster. Hermione hid a chuckle.

"But I do think that I should be the one to escort Miss Brown. You four have classes, and I don't want Professor McGonagall to come down on me again. It was rather terrifying last time."

"We can't accompany you Professor?" Sirius suggested slyly. "You can escort us to our classroom as well."

Hermione interrupted before Dumbledore could reply. He was probably going to say yes, and the last thing she wanted to do was go anywhere with Sirius Black. She needed to get her head sorted out first, strengthen her defences if you will. In the past (or the future, depending on which way you looked at it), Sirius had been able to turn her insides to mush with even a hint of a flirty look in his eye. She needed to prepare herself for that power being ten times as strong in this younger version.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Professor, I'd rather stay here with George if you don't mind," she said.

"You're not hungry Miss Brown?" the Headmaster questioned. Hermione shrugged.

"Not particularly. If I do get hungry, I can just call a house-elf – that's if the castle has them," she tacked on hastily. She really needed to get the hang of not knowing everthing.

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course my dear. You can stay as long as you like. We can talk later, and yes, we do house house-elves. Call for Nifty if your appetite gets the better of you. I find she's quite good at finding the unusual."

"Thank you Professor, I will," Hermione answered with her own smile. It was nice to talk to Dumbledore when he didn't have an agenda in the back of his mind.

"If you're staying dear, I'll write down the order in which your brother has to take his potions," Madam Pomfrey said, stepping out from behind the boys. "That way I won't disturb him too much." She turned to the Marauders. "I trust one of you hooligans has a spare bit of parchment I can use?"

"Hooligans? Oh, you really must stop giving us compliments Poppy!" Sirius cried, winking at the Mediwitch. Madam Pomfrey huffed and reached for the parchment James handed her.

"You don't have some of your own, Madam?" Dumbledore queried and the Matron flushed.

"I ran out and haven't had a chance to get any more," she muttered. The Headmaster chuckled.

"That's alright. Now come boys, let us get you back to filling your heads with nonsense - I mean information," he said. The boys grinned. "We'll talk later Miss Brown?"

"What? Oh, yes," Hermione answered vaguely. Panic was racing through her, but she did her best not to let it show.

A spare bit of parchment. _A spare bit of parchment! _How could she have been so stupid? How could she have possibly forgotten about it? It was what had helped her, Harry and Ron sneak around the castle for so many years, without getting caught! And the original creators were standing right in front of her!

If anyone of those boys decided to use their brains and check the Map – if they hadn't already – the jig was definitely up. And there was nothing she could do about it.

_Yes there is. Nick it._

Hermione frowned. What? What was she thinking? She couldn't steal the Map!

_Of course you can! You stole from Gringotts, didn't you? The Map should be cake compared to that! Nick it! Steal it and you won't have to worry about a thing!_

Her eyes widened as that thought sunk in. Stealing the Map would solve all her problems – well maybe not all of them, but at least the one plaguing her at the moment. No one would ever have to know that she'd lied about who she and George were, because they'd never see the proof. It was a risky idea, if she got caught she'd be in loads of trouble, but she didn't see any other way.

She gulped as the decision crystalized. She, Hermione Granger, was going to steal the Marauders Map right out from under the noses of the Marauders themselves.

As Ron would say…

Bloody hell.

* * *

**50 follows from 3 chapters! You guys are amazing! Thanks soooo much!**


	5. Nicking nacks

**Disconnected **

Disclaimer: Grumble, grumble, moan, moan. J K Rowling won't give me Harry Potter. Sigh. Fine then, be that way. I'll just take your precious Harry Potter, jumble it up, and claim that! Mwah, ah, ah, ah!

**Chapter Five – Nicking nacks **

_She, Hermione Granger, was going to steal the Marauders Map right out from under the noses of the Marauders themselves._

_As Ron would say…_

_Bloody hell._

* * *

Hermione silently accepted the list when Madam Pomfrey handed it to her, the Matron then turning and heading towards her office while Dumbledore herded the Marauders out the door. She watched the boys leave anxiously, wishing they would hurry up. She wanted to get this foolhardy plan over and done with as soon as possible. She slowly shook her head as the doors closed. She couldn't believe she was going to do this! Steal from the Marauders? Brilliant idea, that! Great way to make friends!

_Oh, quit your whining and just go do it already! Since when did you worry about making friends anyway? You aren't planning to be here long enough to form life-long friendships!_

Hermione frowned as the room echoed with silence, the racket the four seventh-year boys had been making, fading off into the depths of the school. Merlin, her inner thoughts were harsh today. And wrong at that. Just because she dedicated most of her life to studying, didn't mean she didn't want friends. She'd wanted them desperately as a child, that wish only coming true half way through her first year at Hogwarts.

_Yes, and you can go back to those two that much sooner if you stop lollygagging and make tracks towards the Common Room! Come on, chop, chop! It'll be fun!_

Not only harsh, it was like they were a different person. Fun? She doubted it.

But deciding that they were right about one thing, she really did need to move her arse and go do a little looting before she and George were found out, she headed towards her 'brother's' beside. George was right where she'd left him, no change noticeable at all. She sighed and looked down at the hand-written list, brightening a little when she saw that his first potion wasn't due for another hour. She should be back by then. Something would have had to have gone seriously wrong for her not to be. She looked back at the blank-faced Weasley.

"Well, wish me luck, George. I'm about to go steal the Map from its creators, hopefully saving our collective arses in the process."

She watched him for any sign of response, her shoulders falling when all he did was stare. She frowned again, irritation beginning to bubble inside her. She knew she shouldn't get annoyed at him, but since it was his fault they were in this mess, the least he could do was function, so that he could help her get them out of it!

_Leave him be. He'll come back. You'll see._

Shaking her head at her thoughts again, she hitched up her robes, which were a little too big for her, conjured shoes and silently left his side. She chuckled quietly at the ditty that began to run through her mind as she headed for the door. Talk about suiting the situation!

_With cat-like tread,  
__Upon our prey we steal,  
__In silence dread,  
__Our cautious way we feel,  
__No sound at all,  
__We never speak a word,  
__A fly's foot-fall,  
__Would be distinctly heard…_

~0~

Hermione's heart was pounding by the time she got to the portrait hole, all musical numbers banished far from her mind. She'd thought the easy part would be getting to the Common Room. How wrong she was. She eventually had to cast an Invisibility Spell – a useful little charm she'd learnt from Fred and George – to stop students staring at her suspiciously.

She shook her head in disbelief as she stopped in front of the Fat Lady. Who knew they'd be so many students not in class? She was appalled at how many young witches and wizards played hooky. Sure, she'd done her fair share of skipping class in her time, but she'd always had a good reason! To decide to just not go to class willy-nilly, without any regard for your education, offended her inner Prefect something rotten!

She was brought back to the here and now, her silent shock and scolding pushed aside, as the opportunity she'd been waiting for presented itself. A young boy, a second or third year by the looks of him, approached the portrait hole. She hopped up from the wall she'd been leaning against, and drifted in as close to the boy as she dared. It wouldn't do to run into him, though no one would probably take all that much notice if he started exclaiming about being pushed by nothing. Not in this school.

The boy looked up at the Fat Lady, who looked back down at him importantly, and said "fiddlesticks."

"Righto then dear," the Fat Lady answered before swinging forward. Hermione followed the boy as he scrambled in, half expecting the guardian of the Gryffindor Common Room to stop her. She was pretty positive that the Fat Lady would be able to see through a Disillusionment, but she hadn't been sure about Invisibility. But the portrait didn't say a word, so obviously the spell worked on her as well. Hermione entered the Common Room without anyone the wiser.

_That's not a good thing really, _she though as she took a quick look around the all but deserted room. _Maybe I should suggest upping the security to Dumbledore…_

She quickly shut down her thoughts before the tantalising idea of changing even something tiny took a firmer hold. They would _not _be changing anything! They would get through whatever length of time they spend here, unknown and unobserved, before they headed back to their own time. Back to a time that was exactly the same as it had been when they'd left.

_Better hop to it then!_

The invisible witch silently thanked whatever rule allowed girls to enter the boy's dormitories as she headed up the stairs, cringing back against the wall to avoid a stampeding teenager who was hurriedly shrugging on his robes. She'd have no clue what to do if the stairs turned into a slide, like they did whenever a boy tried to enter a girl's dormitory. The only way to get in then would probably be to fly, and Hermione Granger (Brown, she had to start thinking of herself as Brown!) and brooms just didn't mix.

She scowled in confusion and frustration as she reached the top. She'd always known where to go when she'd gone visiting Harry and Ron. Now though, she didn't have the foggiest.

It seems that the seventh year in 1978 was bigger than Hermione's year had been. There were not one, but three doors marked 'Seventh Year', all shut tightly. She bit her lip as her gaze switched between the three. If she chose the wrong one and there was still someone in the room…

_Stop hesitating and just pick one! You're invisible! If there's someone in there, it won't be a big deal! This is Hogwarts after all!_

She grinned in relief. That's right, this _is _Hogwarts! With this in mind, she strode over to the first door and tentatively grasped the handle, slowly pushing it open.

The room was empty. Four messy, four-poster beds lined the walls, and Hermione walked over to the closest to the door, hoping that she'd be able to tell right away who lived in the room. She knew the Marauders dormed together, Sirius had mentioned it a time or two, so she was praying that him or James or Remus had left a book out or something. Merlin, she'd even take something Peter had left lying around.

She got what she was looking for beside the third bed. A Transfiguration book was lying on the bedside table, the inner cover showing the name 'Benji Scott.' Taking this as conformation that she was in the wrong room, she exited quickly.

She hit the jackpot in the second room. The room was a mess, though this wasn't surprising considering Sirius Black may live there. If Molly Weasley hadn't cleaned up after him at Grimmauld Place, they would all have been living in more squalor than usual. Three of the beds weren't made, covers tossed back and pillows chucked everywhere, while the fourth was neatly pulled up and wrinkle free. This was Hermione's first clue. Remus was Sirius's opposite. You couldn't find a more tidy wizard, which Hermione had always thought might have something to do with him taking control of whatever he could. But it was the trunk beside the first bed that let her know she was in the right place.

In her experience, you didn't place such strong wards over an object unless you had something to protect or hide. She headed over to the trunk and examined it thoroughly. She smiled when she saw the name 'Sirius Black' engraved on top of it. Most definitely the right room then.

Hermione cautiously reached out to touch the trunk, not at all surprised when a force field of some sort prevented her from getting too close. It even gave her a tiny shock. She grinned in elation. She knew this ward. She knew it like the back of her hand. She'd become quite well acquainted with it while on the Horcrux Hunt. It had been among the many spells she'd cast to hide their camp site, so she was quite well practiced at breaking it down. She drew her wand out of her sleeve and took a deep breath.

Ten minutes later saw her panting, sweat running down her forehead, with an un-warded trunk sitting in front of her. She hadn't expected it to be so hard to break. Whoever had cast it – Sirius probably, it was his trunk – had added little changes that had thrown her off for a moment or two. But broken it she had, and she opened the trunk eagerly.

Her jaw dropped when she saw the contents. The trunk seemed to hold the entire contents of the Room of Hidden Things. It was a jumbled mess, and Hermione pursed her lips in annoyance. She raised her wand.

"Accio Marauder's Map!" she whispered, pointing her wand at the clutter. The heavily packed in items rumbled dangerously before they erupted, spewing everywhere, making Hermione fall back in shock. She let out a rather surprised sound that sounded a lot like 'gak!' when a sharp-edged piece of parchment hit her in the mouth and fell into her lap.

She grumbled as she sat back up. She should've known that was going to happen. Of course Sirius would bury it at the bottom of the trunk. If it were her, she'd do the same thing.

The time traveller picked up the parchment, grinning at its familiarity. She rescued her wand from under the bed, where it had rolled when she'd toppled back in fright – _never let go of your wand, Hermione! _she scolded herself – and tapped the front.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she murmured. She grinned again when the Map exploded into life. It brought back memories, this piece of parchment did. Her grin fell away when she remembered that not all of them were good.

Sighing, she tapped the Map once more.

"Mischief managed," she whispered, and was once again holding a spare bit of parchment. She quickly folded it up and stuck it in the pocket of her robes, before scooting around and shoving the bits and pieces back in the trunk. She closed it and painstakingly rebuilt the ward, knowing as she did so that it wouldn't prevent the Marauders from finding out that they'd been robbed for long.

She shrugged as she stood up. There wasn't anything she could do about that. As long as they didn't find out that _she_ was the robber, everything should be fine.

~0~

Getting back to the Hospital Wing was even harder than getting to and into the Common Room had been. Mainly because it was now lunchtime and the halls were a lot more crowded than they had been when Hermione had begun her adventure.

_Why aren't they in the Great Hall? That's where you have lunch after all,_ she grumbled as she once again ducked and dodged to avoid letting the whole school know she was there. She scooted along walls and slid down banisters as she snuck past what seemed to be the whole student body, finally breathing a sigh of relief when she turned into the corridor leading to the Hospital Wing. Feeling safe, she removed the Invisibility Spell and jogged towards the doors.

Only to collide with someone doing the same thing from another direction.

She 'oomphed' as the force of the collision knocked her over, her robes flying up and around her as she hit the ground. Only prior experience prevented her head from smacking into the ground. Her body still landed heavily though, and she groaned as she lay on the floor.

"Well, hello Miss Brown. What are you doing down there?"

Hermione cracked open her eyes and glared up at the face hovering over her. Her eyes widened and she quickly closed them again when she saw a swing of long black hair and a pair of smiling, sultry grey eyes.

"Sirius," she muttered, her nose crinkling in annoyance.

"You rang?" came the reply and Hermione gasped as her body was suddenly jerked and lifted, until the souls of her feet were once again touching the floor.

Sirius smiled at her when she was upright again. He cocked his head, his gaze locking on hers, and Hermione suppressed a shiver at the intensity of the look.

"Fancy seeing you again," he murmured before grinning. "Quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

"Not particularly," Hermione answered, the heat of his hands seeping into her shoulders. Why hadn't he let her go?

"You know I'm staying here at the moment," she pointed out. Sirius's grin widened.

"I knew there was a reason to visit Poppy more often," he said. Hermione frowned at him as she tried to ignore his flirty expression.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" she asked.

"It's lunchtime, love," Sirius answered with a laugh in his voice and Hermione flushed. She shrugged her shoulder to try to dislodge his hands.

It didn't work.

"So, what? You decided to go for a stroll to the Hospital Wing?" she continued awkwardly as the Map seemed to burn in her pocket. She silently thanked Circe that it hadn't fallen out when she fell.

"Something like that," Sirius grinned, drawing her closer. Hermione's eyes widened.

"So you'll be needing a guide to the school then, right? I'm more then available."

"More then available? How can you possibly be more then available? You're either available or you're not," she rambled as nervousness made words trip over themselves in an effort to escape. Her heart pounded like a drum in her ears. Sirius was still drawing her closer.

"I can be whatever you want me to be, love," Sirius murmured, his eyes on her mouth.

Hermione stared before snorting loudly. She couldn't help it. The cheesiness of that line was just too much, and it cleared the cloud of edginess and unwanted lust pumping through her system.

"Does that line actually work on anyone?"

Sirius looked up to meet her amused gaze, surprise lighting his own eyes. He grinned and shrugged.

"You'd be surprised," he answered dryly. Hermione shook her head.

"Well it's not going to work on me."

"It's not?" Sirius questioned with a smirk.

"No. I know your type, Sirius. You're all flirt, no substance. That type of man doesn't do anything for me, so you may as well quit before even leaving the starting block."

With a hard jerk, she pulled back out of his arms, hoping he wouldn't realize that she was lying through her teeth. For one thing, she knew there was more to Sirius then that. They'd had a few conversations during the summer before fifth year, and she'd enjoyed them immensely, finding him intelligent, witty and very well spoken. It hadn't done much to get rid of her crush, but at the time she'd been laughing too much to care.

The second thing? She found she was a sucker for a flirt. Victor had proved that. The fact that someone took the time to flirt with her… it thrilled her. She usually wasn't the type of girl a bloke flirted with. Too much brain, not enough boob.

"Now, if you'd excuse me, I have to get back to my brother."

She stepped to the side and walked past him, towards the doors. Sirius silently watched her go, his expression one of great intrigue. She'd just pushed one of the doors open when his voice stopped her.

"Oh, Miss Brown?"

"What, Sirius?" Hermione said as she looked back over her shoulder in exasperation. "And my name is Hermione."

"I know," Sirius said, his smirk wide. "Just so _you_ know, challenge accepted."

* * *

**A/N - The little 'ditty' at the beginning of the chapter comes from the musical, The Pirates of Penzance. Thanks everyone for reading!**


	6. Filling again

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: Nope. Nada. Zilch. None of this is mine. Oh wait, the plot… DIPS!

**Chapter Six – Filling again**

"_I know," Sirius said, his smirk wide. "Just so you know, challenge accepted."_

* * *

_George was floating. He didn't know where he was, or how long he'd been there. All he knew was that it was dark and very peaceful. A haven of sorts. He lay back and let himself float, tucked away from the outside world._

_Tucked away from the pain._

_He didn't think he was physically hurt in any way. There weren't any wounds on his body. But whenever he thought about the life beyond his haven, a sharp, jagged-edged hole pulsed in his chest, driving unrelenting agony through his system._

_So he didn't think about it. He didn't think about anything beyond the escape the peaceful darkness brought. He embraced it and sunk._

"Well, this isn't what I expected of you, mate."

_George frowned. There was an intrusion on his solitude. Something was tugging at him, pulling at that hole. He shoved the tug away and closed his eyes._

"George. Don't be a chicken. You're needed out here."

_The tugging got worse and George found himself rising through the dark. He panicked, trying to shut himself away again._

"You're missing out on all the fun, Georgie."

"_I don't care," he thought, pulling away as hard as he could. "Don't want to face that. Just want to stay here."_

"Bloody hell, Forge, stop being a baby!"

_And with that, the something tugged as hard as it could. George surged up through the darkness, fighting all the way. He wanted to stay! He wanted to stay! He wanted to-_

George blinked slowly as what looked like a hospital room blurred into view. Water filled his eyes as they stung, as if he hadn't seen light in a long time. He blinked again, his mind sluggishly trying to piece together what was going on.

He looked around, realizing it was a hospital room, and he was in a hospital bed. A familiar hospital bed. Huh? What was-

He gasped and his hand shot to his chest as the memory of the past month slammed into his brain like a freight train.

Fred. His twin.

His twin was dead.

The pain jack-knifed through his, shortening his breath and making him shake. Not only was Fred dead, his attempt at rectifying the situation had gone down the dirty bog. He hadn't saved him.

A keening, high-pitched whimper hissing from between his teeth, George drew his knees up and clutched at his head with his hands. As he began to rock, his eyes slowly emptied again.

"Georgie, Georgie, Georgie. What am I going to do with you?"

George froze, his whole body going completely and utterly still. He knew that voice. Knew it like he knew his own name. He lowered his hands and very carefully turned his head towards the speaker.

There was a man standing beside his bed. The man's bright blue eyes sparkled with life, as if he was continually holding back laughter. His hair was on the longish side and was an orangey red in colour. He was wearing a set of magenta coloured robes that clashed violently with his hair, and a very wide grin.

He was identical to George in every way – or would have been if George had been carrying more weight.

"Well? Aren't you going to say something? It's not every day your brother comes back from the dead!"

George swallowed hard. "Fred?"

"Course it's me, you prat. Don't have another dead brother, do you?"

"No," George answered a little too calmly, as if he was numb. "Ah… how are you here? Like you said, you're dead."

His eyes widened. "You're not a ghost, are you?"

Fred shook his head. "No, mate, I'm not. Didn't have a reason to hang around, see. So I'm not a ghost; I'm not even here, really."

"That doesn't make sense," George said with a frown. "How can you be here but not be here?"

Fred shrugged and folded his arm, still grinning. "Better ask yourself that. It's your head after all."

He rolled his eyes when his twin just looked more confused.

"I'm in your head, mate."

"Oh," George said, not entirely surprised at this. He looked at his brother. "So am I mental then?"

"Probably," Fred answered cheerfully. "All I know is that you needed me, so here I am."

George nodded and looked thoughtful. "Can I touch you?"

"Hell if I know," Fred said with another shrug. "As I said, it's your head."

George nodded again, his eyes narrowed. He suddenly shot from the bed and hurled himself at his brother, ploughing right into him and knocking him over. Fred laughed as they hit the floor.

"Hey look, you can touch me. Though that landing would have been interesting if you couldn't," he chuckled. His laughter quickly died away as George held on to him for dear life, his body shaking slightly.

He wasn't numb anymore.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay. You're fine. I'm not going anywhere George, I'm here as long as you need me. Steady on now."

George ignored him and buried his face into his twins' neck. Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. Fred may have only been a figment of his imagination, but he felt real enough. He sniffed and tried to pull him closer, joy lighting his blood.

"Come on George, enough of the blubbering already. You're getting my robes all wet."

A slightly shocked laugh bubbled up inside George and escaped through his lips, the sound foreign enough to make him pull back. He smiled at his twin through watery eyes.

"There we go. There's the Forge I know and love to annoy."

George laughed again and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, sitting back and crossing his legs. He stared at his twin, not able to take his eyes off him.

"Sorry. It's just… hard. Really hard. I thought I had a way to bring you back, but then that when kaput."

"I know it's hard, I can tell that just by looking at you. Are you trying to be the world skinniest wizard, or what?"

George grimaced. "Food hasn't really held all that much interest for me lately," he said quietly.

"Well, that's bound to change now that 'Mione's in the picture," Fred said with a wink. "That bloody bird won't let you get away with not eating."

He abruptly craned his neck around the bed and grinned. "Speaking of annoyingly prim and proper witches…"

George frowned and then his head turned towards the doors as well. They creaked as they opened, and he blinked as he heard Hermione's exasperated voice.

"What, Sirius? And my name is Hermione."

George stuck his head under the bed, straining to hear the answer. Sirius? Was she meaning Sirius Black?

"She must be. He's the only Sirius we know enough for her to speak that way to. Or knew anyway."

George pulled back and looked at his brother in surprise. He hadn't said anything out loud, had he?

Fred grinned. "In your head, Georgie."

"You must be. The real Fred would never use that bloody annoying nickname," George grumbled.

"Course he would," Fred corrected. "Not shut up, would you? She's speaking again."

He was right, she was. Hermione's gasp was unbelievably audible, her voice even more so.

"Challenge accepted? _Challenge accepted?_ Are you daft? I'm not an object for you to play with, or a score for you to settle! I'm a living, breathing person, and if I say I'm not interested, I'm not interested!"

George frowned as her voice grew in shrillness. That didn't sound good. If someone thought they could force themselves on his favourite anal-retentive witch, they had another thing coming.

"From her as well. Can you imagine Hermione Granger putting up with any type of unwanted attention?"

George wasn't able to answer his twin, as at that moment, Hermione let loose an angry shriek and slammed the door shut. George could just make out loud laughter echoing through the wood. Her agitated muttering proceeded her as she stalked towards the bed.

"And that's my key to leave," Fred said. He chuckled when George looked slightly panicked. "Don't worry, I'll be back. Or are you just dreading facing a riled up Hermione?"

"A touch of both, I think," George answered as he gulped. His eyes cut to Fred and locked on him.

"Yeah, mate, I _am_ coming back," Fred stated, answering the silent question. "You don't think I'd leave now, just when things are getting good?"

"Nah," George answered with a small smile. "Not the brother I know."

"Too right," Fred agreed. "In the meantime, how about you check out some of the birds around the place?"

"Birds? Birds are no use to me, Gred," George said. Fred grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"Who said anything about you? I'm dead, brother. Got to get my kicks somehow, don't I?"

With that stated, George blinked and his twin was gone, as if he'd never been there in the first place. He sighed, the loneliness swelling up again and washing away the humour brought on by his brother's last comment. He lay back on the floor as one Miss Hermione Granger got steadily closer, grumbling all the way.

"He thinks he knows me better than me, does he? Arrogant git. What right does he have to tell me my own feelings? Challenge accepted indeed. I'll hex him six ways from Sunday the next time he says something like that, see if I don't. Bloody, annoying… George?"

He thought about ignoring her, but the panic in her voice made him feel a little guilty. He sighed when she called his name again.

"Down here, Hermione."

"George! What in Merlin's name are you doing down there?" Hermione asked as she rounded the bed. "You've got a perfectly good bed; you should be in that-"

She cut herself off as her eyes widened almost comically. "You answered me."

"That's what people tend to do when spoken to," George pointed out. He grimaced at the dullness in his voice, but he just couldn't seem to help it. Without Fred beside him, they world was grey again.

"Yes, yes, but you haven't been," Hermione said with an impatient wave of her hand. "You've been shut down for nearly two days."

She crouched down beside him and frowned. "I was bloody scared you weren't ever going to come back."

A ghost of a smile crossed George's face, lighting his eyes briefly. He sat up and cocked his head.

"Aww, 'Mione, I didn't know you cared," he teased. The witch flushed and rose again.

"Yes, well, enough said about that," she muttered. "Now, get up you, and get back into bed. The floor's too cold to lie on."

She prodded him with her toe when he didn't move. "Come on George, stop dillydallying and get your behind into that bed."

It was clearly an order, and because she was right, the floor was surprising cold, George drew himself to his feet. He swayed slightly when all the blood left his head in a rush.

"See? You're not well enough to be out of bed. Get in there and then you can take your potions."

"Oh look, it's Mum," George grumbled as he slowly climbed onto the bed. Hermione ignored him, fussing with the covers until they were wrapped around his legs sufficiently. She then picked up a few small bottles and handed them to him silently, her brows raised.

George's glare was a bit pathetic, but he felt he still got his point across. Hermione pursed her lips and took his hand, pushing one of the bottles into it. He sighed. Okay, maybe he hadn't.

But since he felt like a decrypted old man at the moment, and knowing that the medicine would probably help with that, he scowled just because he could and drunk the first potion. It was disgusting, as were the other five he was forced to take. His glare was a lot stronger by the time he'd swallowed the last one.

"You're trying to poison me, aren't you?" he accused. Hermione's lips twitched and she shook her head.

"All done?" she asked. George put down the offending bottle and nodded.

Only to shrink back when Hermione smacked him upside the head.

"Hey! What was that for?" he whined as he covered his head with his arms.

"For making a stupid decision and getting us into a right mess," Hermione answered haughtily. "We're stuck twenty years in the past because of you, and-"

"Twenty years?" George whispered, appalled. "We can't be! We were just meant to-"

"I know what we were just meant to, but that didn't happen," the witch interrupted on a sigh. "Instead, we're in 1978. Hogwarts, 1978, to be exact."

"So that's why this room looks familiar," George murmured. He looked up at his companion. "And you say we're stuck? Can't we use the Time-Turner to get back?"

"It broke," Hermione said shortly. George's mouth formed an O and his shoulders slumped.

"So what now?" he asked softly. He blinked when Hermione's bad mood evaporated and a shaft of excitement ran across her face.

"Now, we lie about who we are and we do what everyone else here is doing. We go to school."

Horror spiked through George. "What?"

"Well, Hogwarts is a school, isn't it? So we become new students with different names."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bit of parchment. "I even stole the Map, so that we don't get found out."

"Hermione, I can't go to school!" George whined, focusing on the first part. "Already done that, don't want to do it again!"

"What else do you suggest we do until we find a way home? No, we have to do this, but I warn you, it'll be hard. Living with the Marauders will be hard enough, but add Lily Evans on top of that… well; we'll just have to muddle through it."

George started as she drew her wand, pointed it at the parchment and muttered something under her breath, making him suddenly realize exactly what the bit of parchment in her hand was. The Map? And the Marauders…

Merlin's pants!

"Hermione, are you telling me that that piece of parchment is the Marauder's Map and we're now in the same school as the Marauders themselves?"

"Yes," she answered in a distracted tone, more interested in perusing the Map.

"And that Map… you _stole_ it? From the Marauders?"

"Yes again," Hermione said, looking up this time. A tiny bit of pride lit her face. "It actually wasn't that hard, really. Not at all like I thought it was going to be."

"Course it wasn't," George said absently, lost in the thrilling fact that he was in the same time period as his idols. "They're the Marauders after all. They're the Kings of the school. Why would they need to hide anything really well? No one would dare steal from them."

Amusement made him look healthy for a brief moment. "Expect Hermione Granger of course."

"Brown. Hermione Brown. And you're George Brown, my brother," Hermione said, her pride back after George's words had made her shoulders droop.

A raised brow. "I look nothing like you."

"That's why one of us is adopted. Me, most likely. It'll give me a reason to know about being Muggleborn."

She folded the Map up and stuck it back in her pocket, apparently satisfied.

"You didn't clear it," George pointed out. Hermione shrugged.

"No one else but us will be seeing in for an undetermined amount of time, so that doesn't really matter."

She leaned forward. "We can talk to Dumbledore tonight about classes, and if Madam Pomfrey says it's alright, we can both start tomorrow."

George lay back with a tired sigh as she chattered on. Trust Hermione to be excited about school. Him? He was dreading it.

_Great way to check out those birds though. And maybe a couple of blokes for you. Only a couple, mind, as this is all about me._

George looked up. Hermione was still talking, not having heard a thing. Merlin, maybe he was mental. A rear slow smile spread across his features at that thought. Add the Marauders to the mix and stir in Fred, even in a make-believe form… he found he really didn't care.


	7. Important meals

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, blah, blah, blah… *sigh*

**Chapter Seven – Important meals**

_Add the Marauders to the mix and stir in Fred, even in a make-believe form… he found he really didn't care._

* * *

Sirius sauntered into the Great Hall the next morning, more than eager to begin his day. Not that he was looking forward to classes; they were the furthest thing from his mind. It was the after and in between that he was anticipating. He grinned as he sat down at the top of the Gryffindor table, his mind replaying the extreme outrage that had poured from one Miss Hermione Brown the day before.

It had thrilled him that he was able to get such an over-the-top reaction from her. The way her eyes had lit with fire, her hand all but shaking with her rage… it had made him want to hop and skip with glee. He hadn't of course. Dancing around like a loon wouldn't have given the right impression at all.

But he'd wanted to. She was just so… entertaining. When she'd shrieked and slammed the Hospital Wings doors in his face, laughter had ripped from him. He honestly hadn't laughed that hard in months. Hogwarts had been boring recently – not that his fellow Marauders weren't interesting and entertaining. It was just that everyone, his best mates included it seems, was focusing on studying for their NEWTS.

With his three soldiers-in-arms buried in books a lot more than they used to be, it didn't leave much time for fun and pranking. Sirius was finding that he missed it. Sure, he could have joined the other seventh-years and studied as well, but the day Sirius Black picked up a book to study before he absolutely had too, was the day his world ended.

Besides, it wasn't like he needed to study. He got good grades without even really trying, something that annoyed Moony and Evans, and even Prongs sometimes. He'd coasted through the last six years, only really putting in an effort for his OWLS in fifth year – and that was only because Evans had spent half an hour screaming at Prongs about his and Sirius's laziness. James had then decided to try and impress her, dragging his unwilling best mate into the mix as well.

Sirius snorted to himself as he reached for a piece of toast. James's attempt hadn't worked. Evans had just sniffed snootily and left the room when she'd seen them buckling down with quills and parchment. Sirius didn't understand why James thought it would work anyway. Nothing he did ever worked. Not with Miss Goody-Two-Shoes Head Girl.

Though the change of strategy Prongsie was using this year seemed to be producing some unexpected and interesting results…

He shook his head; not at all sure that James's strategy was in fact, a strategy at all. He'd changed since his father's death, which was another reason Sirius was so looking forward to the entertainment Miss Brown was sure to provide. The change wasn't noticeable to people who didn't know him, but it was there, making him more serious and downcast then he used to be. Sirius didn't want to push him, but he planned to give him a subtle nudge eventually. He needed to move on from this, not wallow in it, as he was tending to do at the moment.

Sirius smirked around a full mouth. Hopefully this mornings, ah, _festivities_ would cheer James up. He hadn't told him what he'd planned, but it was sure to bring a smile to his face. He really needed to smile more, being down half the time couldn't be healthy-

He was brought out of his thoughts by the very person he was thinking about. Sirius swallowed and grinned at James, who smiled back and sat down beside him. He cheered silently when he saw James's lips curve. It wasn't as big as it used to be, but it was a happy expression none the less.

"Morning, mate. Where's the rest of our lot?" Sirius asked. James yawned and nodded his head towards the door.

"Inspecting the bed that randomly showed up in our dorm this morning," he answered, forking bacon onto his plate. Sirius's shaggy brows rose in surprise.

"A bed?"

"Yeah. Just popped into existence out of nowhere next to Moony's. Nearly gave Peter a heart attack. Definitely gave him a sore head when he tumbled off his bed in fright."

"Hmm. Maybe it's for that new bloke. Hermione's brother?" Sirius suggested. James shrugged and poked at his eggs before looking up.

"Could be. But isn't he still in the H Wing?"

Remus and Peter arrived before Sirius could answer. Not that he could have given an answer anyway, or even cared. It wasn't the mysterious brother he was interested in.

His sister had already claimed his full attention.

"Figured out who it belongs to?" James asked and Remus shook his head.

"There isn't trunk at the end with a name or anything. But it has to be for George. He's the only new guy we have."

"That's what Padfoot said."

"Okay, enough about the bed. It's a bed, there's nothing special about it," Sirius said impatiently. "Let's talk about the new girl instead!"

He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, a wide, eager smile dominating his features. Remus looked over, took one look at his face, and groaned.

"Merlin, Sirius, already? You've only seen her twice, and the last time she yelled at you!"

"That's a good thing!" Sirius protested. "Means she got spirit, and it'll be all the more fun to tame her!"

Remus groaned again and then looked down the table warily. A large number of Gryffindor girls were within earshot, Lily included. If the Head Girl had actually heard what Sirius had just said…

Thankfully, the redhead was focusing on her breakfast, chatting with Mary MacDonald, none the wiser of Sirius's chauvinistic comment. Remus looked back round when said commenter yelped.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"For saying something like that in front of Evans!" James hissed. "Do you _want _her hex us all?"

"Chill, she didn't hear me. Why are you worried anyway? I thought you'd gone off her?" Sirius asked in a conniving tone. James frowned and shook his head, but didn't answer.

"You really think it's a good thing, Padfoot?" Peter piped up, moving the conversation back on track. "I think it'd be exhausting."

"Not exhausting, exhilarating," Sirius corrected.

"But with her? Isn't she a little… plain?"

Sirius's eyes widened as he stared at the boy in disbelief.

"Plain? Are you blind, man? Have you seen her?"

"Course I have, I was with you," Peter answered, just a touch of irritation colouring his tone. "I know what I saw, and it wasn't anything outstanding. What could you have possibly seen?"

"Well, her hair for one thing!"

"What, that bush?" Peter scoffed.

"It's not a bush! Open your eyes Wormtail! She looks like she's spent the entire night being shagged senseless! Bed-hair is undeniable sexy, and Miss Brown looks like she has constant bed-hair!"

"You can't call someone fit just because you like their hair," Peter said with a condescending smirk. Sirius grinned.

"That's not everything Petey. You really do need to get your eyes checked. What about her mouth?"

"What about it?"

Sirius gaped at the uncaring tone. Peter actually seemed to be more interested in his porridge. He shook his head in astonishment.

"That overbite, mate! How can you not find that sexy?"

"How is something that probably just means she may have had buck teeth at some point, sexy?"

Now Sirius was shocked for another reason. And he wasn't the only one. Both James and Remus were looking at Peter in amazement as well.

"How do you know anything about overbites and buck teeth?" Remus asked, flabbergasted.

Peter shrugged, looking smug. "I know stuff," he said.

"Yeah, the best way to peer up a girls skirt," James muttered, making Remus and Sirius laugh. Peter frowned in annoyance, his rat-like face forming a petulant pout.

"But back on topic. Hermione's mouth. Merlin," Sirius sighed, "I could spend hours concentrating on that mouth alone!"

"Only if said mouth doesn't bite your head off first," Remus said with a smirk. Sirius grinned back at him.

"So, what, the girl's fit because you like her hair and mouth?" Peter asked. Sirius nodded before sighing again and shaking his head.

"Oh, my dear Wormy, you have so much to learn," he said forlornly. "Don't you know that every bird's fit in her own way? That's what makes them all so interesting!"

"And makes it so much easier for Padfoot to have a sample of them all," James said with a grin. Remus chuckled and Peter smirked.

Sirius's bound-to-be-agreeable answer was once again interrupted. Whispers began to fill the Hall, heads from all four tables swinging round to crane towards the door. Sirius looked over to see what all the fuss was about, and felt his face break into a wide grin.

McGonagall was striding towards their table, and trailing behind her was Miss Brown. She was dressed in Gryffindor robes, her just-shagged hair puffing out around her. It was a glorious sight, and Sirius jumped up eagerly.

"Merlin. That's her brother?"

Sirius looked at James at his whisper and then looked back at the door, noticing then that his Hermione wasn't alone. Walking behind her was a tall redheaded bloke. He was incredibly skinny, but it wasn't this that made Sirius frown.

It was his eyes. They were a bright blue – or the colour should have been bright. It was instead, dull and faded, vast, empty. Lost. Immense sorrow swam through them, clear for the world to see.

The pain in his eyes hung around him like an aura, giving him a fragility, as if a soft breeze would blow him over. The arm folded across his chest didn't do much to change that opinion. He was clutching it to him, like he was trying to hold himself together.

Pair all that with the gauntness, the ghostly pale skin and the bags under his eyes big enough to house a Hippogriff in, you really didn't get the impression of health and wellbeing.

The man looked like he was going to keel over any second.

"He looks better," Remus murmured and James, Sirius and Peter all whipped their heads around to stare at him in shock.

"_Better?" _ Sirius hissed. "How is _that_ better?"

"He's put on weight," Remus whispered and Sirius looked at him thoughtfully. His friend seemed to be focusing rather hard on the redhead. His eyes followed him as McGonagall and the two newcomers stopped by the table.

"Everyone, this is Hermione and George Brown," the Professor said, addressing the table. "They are new seventh-year students who have been sorted into our House. I trust you will make them feel welcome."

She turned to Evans, who had stood up.

"This is our Head Girl, Lily Evans and I hear you have already met out Head Boy," McGonagall said with a sniff. James smiled and stood as well.

"I have, George hasn't," Hermione answered, smiling at James and Remus – not even glancing at Sirius. The wizard grinned and leaned casually back in his chair.

"I'll handle the rest of the introductions, Professor," Evans said and McGonagall nodded.

"Good. I'll see you all later this afternoon then." She looked at the newcomers. "You two see me after classes and we'll sort out your possessions."

Hermione nodded and sat down beside James – Evans looked slightly put out at this, but didn't say anything – her brother sitting beside her. Sirius looked past James and wiggled his fingers at her.

"Top of the morning to you, Miss Brown," he said cheerfully. Hermione glared at him, making Sirius chuckle. Evans rolled her eyes and held her hand out across the table.

"Hi. I'm Lily Evans, Head Girl. If you need anything, just come to me," she said. Hermione's eyes widened when she met Evans's chipper gaze.

"Umm… yeah, hi, Hermione Gr-Brown," she muttered, shaking her hand quickly and looking away.

"Gr-Brown?" Sirius queried with a grin. Hermione looked at him and then looked away.

"My second name is Grace," she muttered. Sirius pursed his lips, recognizing a lie when he heard one.

"Our parents drilled manners into us from a young age, including introducing ourselves with our full name," the ghost-boy beside her suddenly said. He looked up from his kippers. "The last time we did that with a group of teenagers, the ribbing was endless."

He held Sirius's gaze for a moment before looking down. The wizard frowned. That hadn't sounded like a lie. It had sounded weary and decidedly indifferent, but the truth still.

"Was that at your last school?" Alice MacMillan asked and Hermione looked at George, who continued to stare at his plate, absently pushing his breakfast around with his fork.

"No," she answered with a sigh. "We were home schooled up till now. We travelled from place to place all the time, and our parents wanted us with them."

"Why come here then?" James asked. Once again, it was Hermione who answered.

"We wanted a formal education-"

"You wanted," George murmured.

"_I _wanted," Hermione corrected, looking at her brother quickly, "but Mum and Dad wouldn't let me go on my own. So they sent George as well."

"They wouldn't let you go on your own?" Sirius repeated, his brows reaching his hairline. "That's really overprotective. How old are you?"

"Eighteen…" she trailed off, her eyes on the Prophet a student was reading across from her, the date clear. She blinked in surprise. "Nineteen. I'm nineteen."

"You don't know how old you are?" Sirius joked. The witch glared at him.

"We've been extremely busy these last few months; I only just realized what month it is. I'm nineteen."

"Isn't that a little old to be going to school?" Peter asked. Sirius frowned when she threw his mate a vile look.

"No," she said shortly. A slightly awkward silence settled over the group and Hermione turned to her brother.

"Don't just play with it, George, eat it," she said quietly. Her brother ignored her, still pushing the food around. Her lips thinned.

She picked up a tray of hashbrowns and dumped some onto his plate.

"Eat!" she ordered. George looked up.

"I'm not hungry," he said mildly. Hermione folded her arms.

"I don't care. You need to eat, so eat."

George just looked at her, face stoic.

"Don't make me make you."

George's brows jumped and for the first time since he'd walked into the Hall, a little life flittered into his eyes. They brightened and a knowing, smug smirk crossed his face as he leaned closer to her.

"I'd like to see you try, sister dear."

A small gasp sounded from across the table. He looked over to see Moony gazing at George, naked lust shining in his eyes as George all but dared his sister to do her worst. Sirius coughed and nudged James, who looked over at Remus, eyes popping behind his glasses. He grinned.

Sirius kicked out his foot, catching Remus in the shin. The werewolf jumped, his dazed vision clearing, the look on both Sirius and James's faces making heat surge up his neck. He looked down again quickly.

The Black wizard grinned and folded his arms. Well, well, well. Moony had a crush. He chuckled to himself. Oh, the possibilities!

"Are you two really brother and sister then? You don't look alike," Peter asked, out of the blue. Both George and Hermione looked over at him, making him shrink back under the force of their twin glares.

"Yes, we are," Hermione said through her teeth. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm adopted."

"Oh," Peter said before looking down. Sirius shared an exasperated look with James. Would Peter ever learn the meaning of tact?

"Huh."

All four of the Marauders looked over at the newcomers once more. George was staring up at the ceiling, his brows drawn together. Sirius frowned as he watched him, looking up at the ceiling as well. What was he…? He jumped as he remembered, and quickly cast a _Tempus_, grinning at what he saw.

George abruptly drew his own wand and with a flick of his wrist, conjured an umbrella. He opened it and held it over his head.

"George? What are you doing?" Hermione asked as Sirius's mouth fell open, the time fading from the air. How did he know? How did he…

The first enormous drop fell two seconds later. It hit Lily Evans on the shoulder, staining her robes vomit green. She looked down in confusion and then suddenly began shrieking as a torrential downpour of goop began to pelt down.

The Hall erupted, chairs scraping back, screams filling the air, frantic hand waving accompanying most of the feminine voices and even some of the masculine. Hermione squeaked and jumped to her feet as the goop bathed her hair and robes, sliding down her cheek and dripping from her chin to pool on the table and floor.

Through it all, the Marauders sat and grinned, their uniforms soaking up the sticky stuff as speedily as everyone else. Sirius knew he could have protected himself and his mates, but since it was only him who set up the prank, he felt his brothers needed to feel its effects as well.

"Very nice Padfoot," James approved as he ineffectively wiped his glasses. Peter giggled and Remus shook his head and sat back in his chair to wait for it to end.

The instigator cocked his head and smirked in acknowledgement, the smirk transforming into a frown as his gaze fell on the only person in the Hall who wasn't downing in goop. George sat at the table with a ghost of a smile on his face, the gunk safely sliding down over the umbrella.

Sirius's eyes narrowed as he watched the redhead. He pursed his lips in thought, quickly spitting out the goop that began to invade his mouth. Hmmm. Well, what do you know? It seems Hermione wasn't the only interesting Brown sibling to come to Hogwarts after all.

* * *

**A/N - Guest review reply - Molly Jackson: Thank you for the lovely review! I'm glad you like the story and your right, the lupin thing _is_ probably a bit obvious, but I like stories that are up front with their pairings, so I always make mine that way. Obviously here's the next chapter lol. Hope you enjoy it as much! :D**

**Thanks everyone for reading! And, woohoo, over 100 followers! You all rock! **


	8. Greeting the enemy

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: *Peers down at fake looking contract* Okay. This is weird. This says that HP and all related material are mine. *Contract blows up in face* Yeah. Didn't think so.

**Chapter Eight – Greeting the enemy**

_Well, what do you know? It seems Hermione wasn't the only interesting Brown sibling to come to Hogwarts after all._

* * *

"POTTER!"

"Hey!" the boy with the smeary glasses shouted back indignantly. "It wasn't me!"

"BLACK!"

"Is she going to make the rounds, do you think, or just settle on me?" a very young Sirius Black joked, his shiny hair now not so shiny as it soaked in the goo. George let out a slight laugh, the sound lost in the shrieks and squeals filling the Hall. He shook his head, quite content to watch a goo-covered McGonagall stalk towards them from under his umbrella.

"Looks like you're in for it now, Padfoot," the small, weasel-like boy chuckled. He looked familiar, but George couldn't place him. He found that he didn't really care enough to place him either.

"Nah, Minnie loves me," Sirius answered lazily, leaning back in his chair. He didn't seem to mind that the foreign substance was slowly creeping under his shirt.

"SIRIUS BLACK! STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!"

"Can't you do it yourself, Professor?" Sirius asked, all innocence, and George had the pleasure of watching McGonagall go red with rage under the green.

"You… you… BLACK!"

"It's alright, Minerva, it's Vanishable," Dumbledore stated cheerfully, approaching the table as well. He turned to look at Black with an amused twinkle in his eye. "Though I'd rather it stop soon, before the Hufflepuff first-years drown."

George glanced over and once again chuckled quietly, watching several eleven and twelve-year-olds in robes lined with yellow, fumble around blindly and fall over and over again into large puddles of goo. Black grinned and held up his hands in surrender. He pulled his wand out of his robes and muttered something inaudible, pointing it at the ceiling.

Just like that, the downpour stopped.

Sirius shared a smug smile with James – who looked so much like Harry, even George noticed – but the glory-filled look quickly fell off his face as George watched his 'sister' prow towards the instigator.

"You smug, arrogant prat," Hermione hissed, and George smiled again, memories of when she'd reacted the same way to him and Fred filling his mind. "Did you really find this funny? It's cold and sticky and not everyone knows how to Vanish! You could have ended up making people sick!"

"Now, Miss Brown, calm down. I assure you, no one will end up in the H Wing because of this," Black smirked.

"No, but _you_ are going to end up in detention," McGonagall seethed. "Tonight and every night for the rest of the month!"

"What! Aww, come on! Over alittle harmless goo?" Sirius protested loudly as he jumped to him feet.

"But Professor! We have Quidditch practise twice a week! He can't miss them all!" James exclaimed as he too got to his feet.

"Well, he should have thought of that beforehand, shouldn't he?" McGonagall snarled. She narrowed her eyes at Black and pointed a sharp tipped finger. "Tonight, my office, eight-on-the-dot. Do not be late, or it'll be longer!"

"Merlin, that woman needs a good shagging," Sirius muttered angrily as the Professor strode away. George laughed silently.

"Are you volunteering, Sirius?" a sandy-haired boy asked, amusement dripping from his words. George didn't recognize him either, but there was once again something familiar about him. It was much stronger this time.

"Dear Godric, _no!"_ Sirius blanched, horror dominating his features. "I'm not the one to do it, that's for sure!" He suddenly turned and cocked a brow at Hermione, who was standing at his side, still fuming, though she did look rather pleased as well.

"I'm more than willing to help _you_, though, love," he purred with a leer. George recognized it as an exaggeration, the offer deliberately over-the-top, just so he can draw a reaction.

And one of the things Hermione Granger was _very_ good at was reacting. Loudly.

"Vile… disgusting… _arse__!_" she shrieked, spinning around and stalking away. The redheaded Head Girl and her friends followed her, throwing the Marauders an angry glare along the way. Sirius shrugged.

"Guess she didn't want my services," he commented cheerfully before pursing his lips and grinning at his mates. "Just have to change her mind then, won't I?"

_Ah, the Marauders. You really do have to get to know them, Georgie. If not for your own sake, then for mine. It is the only way I'm ever going to spend any time with these heroes, you know._

_Fred! You're back! _George thought, his umbrella lowering as he concentrated on the voice in his head.

_Course I am. Said I would be, didn't I?_

_You weren't there last night, _George thought softly. His arm went to his chest, the ache that the prank had dispelled briefly, coming back with a vengeance. He sighed. He didn't want to think about last night.

He should have known he wouldn't be able to keep the nightmares at bay. He'd fallen asleep well enough, only to wake screaming three hours later. And on top of that, he'd woken Hermione as well, who had then insisted on staying awake with him when he couldn't make himself go back to sleep.

It had resulted in a grumpier then usual witch, and a wizard who wanted to do nothing more than sink down into himself again. He ached from the inside out and interacting with the world and other people seemed like too much of a trial. He wanted to bury himself under the covers and stay there forever, only functioning when he had to.

_Come now, Forge, that's no way to make the most of this experience! _

_Maybe I don't want to make anything of anything,_ he thought, the words soft and tired.

_Yeah, mate, you do._

George sighed again and stood up, the Hall quickly emptying around him. He followed the mostly-green students out into the school, only intent on getting through the day as painlessly as possible. He was heading to the dungeons for Potions – the Headmaster had suggested they take only a few core classes, as they weren't supposed to have a wide range of previous education, an idea that had set Hermione right off – when he heard his name being called.

"Hey, George, wait up!"

The redhead turned to see four still-covered boys running after him, Sirius at the forefront. They skidded to a stop about two feet away and the prankster folded his arms and lifted a brow – which looked very weird stained a deep, swamp-gunk green.

"How did you know it was going to happen?"

_Ooh, ooh, what are you going to do now, Georgie Porgie?_

_Georgie Porgie? _George repeated in disbelief.

_It's a name in a muggle nursery rhyme Dad told me about. I think it suits you. You know, kissing girls and making them cry and all._

_I've never snogged a girl in my life, so how can I make them cry?_

_Cause they're settling for a substitute, Forge, _the voice in his head stated happily. _You know it's really me they want to snog, not you._

_Whatever you say, Gred, _George agreed in a soothing tone, unable to stop a tiny smile from playing across his lips. Everything just seemed brighter with his twin around.

"I didn't," he answered Sirius aloud.

"But you conjured an umbrella. You must have," James pointed out.

"I knew _something _was going to happen, just not what."

"Alright, but _how _did you know?" Sirius demanded. "Not even Moony knew, and he's usually needed as the brains behind the operation."

"Oi! What about me? I'm smart, aren't I?" James whined, once again indignant, but George wasn't listening. He was stuck back on the nickname.

_Moony! That's who he is, _he thought as he stared at the sandy-haired boy. Moony's - one of the Marauders - real name was…

He froze and swallowed hard. _Merlin's balls! I pulled my wand on Professor Lupin!_

_That's Professor Lupin? Wow. What a difference a couple of decades make, eh? He's got less than half the scars he had when he taught us!_

_And he's definitely a lot better looking now, _George thought absently, forgetting in his shock that his brother could hear everything in his mind. He groaned silently when his head suddenly rang with mirth-filled guffaws.

_Oh Georgie, that's bloody brilliant! Go back to the past and fall in lust with your teacher! Absolutely priceless! George and Lupin, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!_

_Another muggle nursery rhyme? _George asked dryly as Fred continued singsong-ing.

_Something like that! First comes love, then comes marriage…_

_Shut it, you git._

He scowled half-heartedly as the laughter continued.

"George? Hey, George! GEORGE!"

The laughter cut off abruptly and George blinked, looking back at the foursome in front of him. He scowled again, this time for real.

"What?"

"You didn't answer the question," Sirius said very slowly, as if talking to a young child. Professor Lupin – Remus – scowled as well and smacked him on the arm. The Black wizard frowned at him.

"He doesn't have to answer if he doesn't want to," Remus said firmly as he glared at his friend. George's brows rose in surprise.

"Yes he does! I want to know how he knew!" Sirius pouted.

"Then you can ask him again later, can't you? We've got to get going if we don't want to be late-"

"You've only got one ear!"

The loud, blurted out sentence shut Remus up and made the group turn to stare at the boy who had announced it. George grinned slightly as the weasel-like boy shrunk back from the stares, his pasty face turning the shade of a tomato very quickly.

"Great observation skills you've got there, mate," George said, his tone as dry as the Sahara. Though to be honest, he was a little surprised the boy had seen it when no one else had so far. His hair was long enough to cover his ears at the moment.

"He does?" Sirius asked and both he and James turned to gawk at the redhead, who rolled his eyes and held up his hair, showing them the scar that now resided where his ear used to be. They both looked suitably impressed.

"How'd that happen?" James asked curiously.

"Cursed off," George answered curtly, not going into further detail. The boy's faces shone with a need to know more, but fortunately, none of them pushed, the weasel included. They wouldn't have gotten more anyway. George was too tired to come up with any more on-the-spot lies.

Remus reached out and tugged at James's robes. "We really do need to get going, or we'll be late."

"So?" Sirius answered. "It wouldn't be the first time. I'm not going anywhere till he tells me how he knew!"

George sighed. "Fine. You want to know? All I had to do was look up. Enchanting an Enchanted Ceiling? Too easy."

"Is not too easy!" Sirius spluttered. "It took me all bloody day to figure out how to do it!"

George couldn't help smirking a bit. "Then you need more practice, don't you? Now, I really must be going. Class to attend and all, you know."

_Well done brother, _Fred whispered in his head as Sirius's mouth fell open and both James and Remus laughed. George accepted the praise with dignity, and with a small wave, turned on his heel. He could hear the Marauders muttering behind him, Sirius the loudest, as they too left to go to class.

"George!"

He stopped and turned to see Remus running after him. A zing of awkwardness shot through him. Merlin, he was going to have to apologize!

He launched right into it to get it over and done with.

"Remus. Look, I'm, ah, I'm sorry about pulling my wand on you the other day. I shouldn't have done that."

He cringed as he tripped over his words. He wasn't used to apologizing for anything. But he'd learnt during the war that to pull your wand on someone and mean it was a very serious thing.

He'd done it a number of times in school and no one had had a problem with it - well, nearly no one, teachers didn't count – but in the real world, especially one at war, it was a completely different story.

"Don't worry about that," Remus said as he waved his hand in dismissal, making George's eyes widen. "You weren't well. I know you wouldn't have done it if you'd been thinking straight."

"Do you?" George murmured, his eyes now narrowed on the boy. He hadn't expected that answer, though he probably should have. Professor Lupin had always let him and Fred away with a lot more stuff then the other teachers. Not that they'd played up much in his class. They'd been too fascinated.

_Were you fascinated with the lessons or with the teacher, Forge?_

He deliberately ignored the voice in his head.

"Umm… here," Remus muttered shyly as he pulled something out of the pocket in his robes. George stared, nonplussed, at the two sausages and the apple he held out to him.

"Most of the food got slimed, and your sister's right. You really do need to eat as much as possible if you want to get better quickly."

George silently accepted the food, completely and utterly flabbergasted. Professor Lupin had always been kind, but that was when he knew the people he was being kind to. This version didn't know George from a bar of soap.

"Thank you," he said softly and a broad smile spread across Remus's face, making his sea-green eyes light up. George blinked again and shifted uncomfortably, something he hadn't felt in quite a long time, igniting a little inside him.

"Make sure you eat them," the werewolf ordered before wishing George a good day and running off after his friends. George frowned down at the cold breakfast foods, turning again and continuing to the dungeons.

He didn't even notice that he was doing what he was told and eating them, until there was nothing left but grease and a core.

~0~

The rest of the day wasn't as interesting as its beginning. George found out that James and Sirius were in Potions with him, as were Hermione and the Lily, the Head Girl. He frowned when he realized that the two Marauders must have taken a different route to get to the dungeons – one he didn't know about.

_We'll just have to fix that right quick, eh brother?_

George nodded before remembering that no one else could hear Fred, and that he must have looked like he had a tick or something. After that, he ignored any comments his brother made, which was surprisingly easy to do, as most of them were complaints at how easy the assignments were.

George had to agree. He and Fred had mastered most of this stuff the summer before their (first) seventh year, as much of it they'd used while constructing their products. Therefore, he finished his potion before most of the class, only Hermione and Lily beating him.

It set the tone for the remainder of the day's classes. George would either zip through his work, or not do it at all, just not having the motivation. He even managed to catch a nap in Binns's class, the History of Magic teacher just as boring as ever. That really hadn't been the most brilliant idea. Only Fred shouting his name had prevented him from bolting awake in the middle of class, screaming his head off, as his sleep was once again invaded by nightmares.

As a result, he wasn't in a very social mood when Hermione sort him out to find out how his first day had gone. He was sitting at the top of the Astronomy Tower, staring out over the grounds and clutching his chest. Fred had been silent since History of Magic, and George desperately wanted him back, if only to stop the constant pulse of pain through his heart.

He looked over, his face blank, as his 'sister' sat down beside him and placed a bowl of beef stroganoff in his lap. George knew he'd missed dinner, but couldn't bring himself to care.

"Eat," she ordered. George looked down at the stew and then looked back over the grounds, paying no attention to the food. Hermione sighed but didn't press.

What she did was start up a constant chatter, talking about anything and everything, trying her hardest to draw the silent wizard into a conversation. George listened a little bit, but mostly ignored her, the sound of the words buzzing into his ear like an irritating gnat. He frowned as she just kept going. Couldn't she see he wanted to be alone? Did she always have to stick her nose in all the time?

"…and then it took everything I had not to hex that bloody Pettigrew, insolent little git-"

"What?" George barked as he suddenly focused on her, cutting her off her words. "What did you just say?"

"Umm… I wanted to hex Pettigrew?"

"Pettigrew? _Peter Pettigrew?_ He's _here?_"

"Yes, of course he is, George," Hermione said quietly. "He's a Marauder, after all."

George shot to his feet, the hole in his chest filling as rage began pumping through his blood. The _weasel! _That's why he'd looked slightly familiar! A vicious snarl ripped from him as he headed out the outer entrance and flew down the stairs. He was going to tear him limb from limb!

"George, stop! Where are you going? What's wrong… Oh! Oh no!"

George's legs were longer then Hermione's, but the witch had both speed and stamina. She quickly caught up with him, shouting his name repeatedly as she followed. George didn't hear a thing apart from his pulse pounding in his ear.

But he certainly felt something slam into his back.

He hit the ground hard, his chin slamming into the concrete of the courtyard, the skin breaking. He roared in anger and began to struggle, flipping over onto his back with Hermione on top of him.

"GET OFF ME! I HAVE TO KILL HIM! HE HAS TO DIE!"

"Merlin, Merlin, please George, calm down! You can't _do_ this! You can't change the past!"

"CAN'T CHANGE THE PAST? HE KILLED FRED!"

Hermione sobbed as she held him down as tightly as she could, George doing his best to buck her off. The small number of students that were milling around stopped to stare in horror and whisper amongst themselves. One even ran inside to get help.

"Yes, he did, in a roundabout way, but you can't get revenge, George! Please listen to me, please!"

She rested her whole body on him, holding him down that way, and put her lips against his ear, so as not to give away anything more of what they were fighting about.

"You do this and what happens instead, George? Ginny dies? Or Ron? Or maybe Harry? How about the whole Order? You could be handing the war over to Voldemort with a single action!"

"_I don't care!" _he hissed. Hermione shook her head frantically.

"Yes you do. You do!" she insisted when he growled. "You're just grieving at the moment. Please, please, don't do this. Think of the big picture. You want to have a home to go home to, don't you? Please, George, think!"

_She's right, mate._

George's struggles calmed, and finally ceased as he stared up into her desperate eyes.

"He killed Fred."

The pained, despairing whisper made Hermione sob anew.

"I know, I know he did, and so many others as well!" she moaned as tears streaked down her cheeks. "And I promise that he'll pay for it somehow. But not now. Not here. We'll get him; I vow we will, but later. When we know what we're doing."

George closed his eyes.

"He killed Fred."

And with that, he curled up into a ball and wept.


	9. Brother for real

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story, but I'm sure J K would be willing to gift them to me! Looking to jump on the massively impossible dream train as well? Sign up right here!

**A/N – Sorry people, this week's been extremely hectic, so I wasn't able to work on anything till tonight. But the chapter's here now. It's a little bit filler-ish, but is important to the overall plot. Hope you enjoy! **

**Chapter Nine – Brother for real**

_And with that, he curled up into a ball and wept._

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure how long she sat on the cold concrete of the courtyard, rocking George while he grieved. She did eventually notice that the crowd around them was swelling, more and more people coming out of the school to gawk and whisper behind their hands. She glared at them, about to start yelling about turning a person's pain into entertainment, when Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey pushed through the crowd.

The Matron crouched down beside the devastated wizard, silently looking him over. She looked up and smiled gently at the girl holding him, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder.

"This is a good thing," she murmured. Hermione bit her lips and shook her head in dispair.

"But his grief… it's so _heavy._ How can it be good?" she whispered.

"It's good because he's letting it out. He never stood a chance of moving on while he kept all this inside. He'll probably feel a lot less burdened in the morning."

"So we just let him cry?" Hermione asked, astounded. The Mediwitch nodded.

"Yes. It's the best thing for him. If it gets any stronger than this, I'll give him a sedative potion, but for now the best thing would be for him to head to bed and try to get some sleep."

"He won't… he won't lose himself again?" the younger witch asked hesitantly. Madam Pomfrey looked thoughtful for a moment and then shook her head.

"No, I don't think he will. He wouldn't have come out of it so quickly if he was going to sink again – at least in my experience, most people don't. We just need to get him inside and away from this crowd. A warm bed and some privacy will do him the world of good."

Hermione sighed in relief and slowly drew her arms back. She got down on her stomach and crawled closer to him, so that only he and the Matron would be able to hear her.

"George? Can you hear me? We need to get you up so we can head inside."

By now, his sobs had tapered off until all he was doing was shuddering, his eyes squeezed shut tight. He didn't give any indication that he'd heard her. Either that or he was ignoring her, which was actually more likely.

"George? Please, you'll get sick if you stay out here," she whispered, brushing his hair back. He stilled briefly at her touch before curling up tighter.

"Do you need another stretcher?" a deep voice asked and Hermione looked up. Remus was standing a couple of feet away, the rest of the Marauders and the Head Girl not far behind him. They were all watching George with various expressions of sympathy and shock – all but James that is. He was staring at the ground, his hands fisted at his side.

"No," she answered, watching curiously as Lily inched closer to James and hovered behind him, her expression twisted, as if she was arguing with herself. "If we can just get him up, he'll walk. It's the getting up that's the hard part."

"No it's not. That's easy," Sirius stated confidently. He squeezed James's shoulder and then strode over to the couple on the ground, hustling Hermione out of the way with the toe of his shoe. She glared up at him and got to her knees, blinking when he pulled a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and handed it to her.

"You're crying," he said before turning to George.

Hermione blinked again, for the first time realizing that her lashes were wet. She wiped her cheeks quickly, annoyed at herself, and both annoyed and surprised that this younger version of Sirius Black would be so thoughtful. She'd expect it a little from the adult him, but not from this… this _flirt._ She glared again and her hackles went up when he moved in close to George.

"What do you think your-"

She stopped abruptly and her mouth fell open as Sirius bent over, grabbed George round the middle and hauled him to his feet. It didn't even look like he'd put any effort in. He just tugged and George was off the ground.

_Merlin, he's strong,_ she thought, unable to stop herself from admiring the way the muscles in his arms rippled as he lifted, noticeable even through his robes. She then scoffed silently at the girlyness of the observation. The man wasn't strong! George was thin and carried hardly any mass at all – she'd held him down herself, for Godric's sake!

While Hermione was telling herself off for acting like nearly every other girl at Hogwarts, Sirius shifted George – who wasn't protesting being lugged around – and put the wizard's arm around his neck. Remus rushed forward and got on his other side.

"All set, Poppy," Sirius said with a grin. The Matron rolled her eyes and turned to look at McGonagall, who so far had been silent. The Deputy Headmistress nodded and turned to the assembled crowd.

"I trust you all know the curfew is in an hour, and I know that most of you have will still have homework to complete – Mr Barnes, you've finished your essay, I take it?"

The boy who the formidable woman had singled out, jumped and flushed, looking down quickly. "Umm, not yet, Professor."

"Then you shouldn't be standing around, should you? That goes for you too, Mr Lewis!" she rebuked, shutting up Barnes's snickering friend instantly. "The lot of you, inside now! If I find anyone still roaming the halls in forty minutes time, they'll get a weeks' worth of detention!"

The crowd grumbled, but slowly began to move, most people trying to crane their necks to keep George and his helpers within view. Hermione stood up and sent the Professor a grateful glance. The older witch replied with a single nod.

"You know where he's going, boys?" McGonagall asked.

"Yeah, a bed appeared this morning, so it safe to assume he's in our room," Remus said quietly.

"Good," the Professor as said. "Straight there then, no stopping along the way."

"Where would we stop?" Sirius asked innocently. McGonagall narrowed her eyes at him.

"I know you haven't forgotten that you should be in detention right now, Mr Black," she said. The handsome wizard smirked at her.

"Hey, I'm being a good Samaritan, which is a strong enough reason to skip your lovely presence this one time, don't you think, Professor?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head, rising to her feet to tap her toe impatiently. Could he not be serious even once? Every situation didn't call for a joke, for goodness sake!

_He's always Sirius, love._

Her jaw dropped. Merlin, she must be exhausted to think of that incredibly lame, over-used joke!

_Oh, come on, lighten up a little, Hermione! He's helping George, isn't he? You could at least be grateful for that._

The witch frowned. Now her inner voice sounded a lot like a Weasley brother. Yep, definitely emotionally exhausted.

She tuned back in when the Head of Gryffindor snorted rather inelegantly. "That gilded tongue of yours is going to get you into trouble one day, Black," she stated.

Sirius's smirk widened. "It already has gotten me into a lot of trouble, Professor, and I've enjoyed every minute of it."

McGonagall opened her mouth to reply as James chuckled, only to be interrupted by Remus.

"As much fun as this bantering is, don't you think we should get moving? It's getting colder out here by the second."

Hermione readily agreed, shivering as a strong gust of wind suddenly blew out of nowhere, as if in echo of his words. She stepped forward and walked into the castle beside the Matron, following the three boys as they headed for Gryffindor Tower. James, Lily and Peter brought up the rear.

"If he _does _go under again?" she asked her companion softly. Madam Pomfrey's smile was kind.

"Trust me, Miss Brown; I'd be quite surprised if he did. But you can keep an eye on him during the night if it makes you feel better."

Hermione's spirits lifted before quickly falling again. That would be a lot easier said than done. George was bunking in the seventh-year boys' dormitory, while she was on the other side of the Tower, in the girls' dormitory. While she didn't mind invading their space – she had done it already after all, even if it was without their knowledge – she thought that the Marauders might have something to say about it.

Sirius especially.

Her mouth pulled into a hard line. Well, they'd just have to get over it. She was _not _leaving George alone tonight. She was determined that he wouldn't go through this alone. Maybe it might have had more to do with him being Ron's brother than anything else, but that didn't mean she didn't care. He was a Weasley, making him a part of her family.

Huh. Seems he really _was_ her brother – in the non-blood sense of the word.

The unusual group stopped at the Common Room entrance, the Fat Lady looking on curiously, as Hermione thanked the Madam and the Professor for their help.

"Just make sure he eats and he should be fine," Madam Pomfrey said with a pat on the arm, before turning and heading back to the Hospital Wing. McGonagall stopped Hermione as she went to follow the other through the portrait hole.

"We still need to sort you and your brother some mufti clothing and other possessions," the Scottish woman said. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth as she remembered that they were supposed to meet the Transfiguration teacher that evening.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor!"

"That's quite all right, Miss Brown, you've had other things on your mind," McGonagall said with a glance at the still open entrance. "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll organize a trip to Hogsmeade. If Mr Brown is up to it, that is."

"He will be," Hermione answered, a determined slant to her mouth. The Professor's brows rose.

"Yes, I'm sure he will. My office tomorrow after dinner, and we'll-"

"Are you two going in, or am I just hanging here open for no reason?"

"I better go," the younger witch muttered with a glare at the back of the portrait. The Professor also sent the portrait a miffed look before nodding.

"Tomorrow after dinner," she said before turning and headed back down the corridor. Hermione quickly stepped through the entrance, ignoring the "finally," from behind her. She veered off to the right and, also ignoring the titters and whispers from the students filling the Common Room, headed up the stairs to the boys dormitory.

No one answered the door when she knocked, but an airy voice called out, "Come in if your gorgeous!" Sirius looked up and smirked when, after rolling her eyes, Hermione opened the door and walked in.

"And modest too, I see, Miss Brown," he observed. Hermione did her best to pretend he didn't exist and walked over to the bed that hadn't been there the day before. George was sitting on it with his fists resting on his knees, staring at the floor. Sirius was leaning against his bed by the door, James was over by the window, half turned away from the room, Remus was hovering beside George's bed, and Peter… well going by the pulled curtains around the furthest away bed, he'd already retired.

Hermione sneered silently. Good riddance. She didn't want his input anyway, and George definitely wouldn't.

She sat down on the bed without saying a word and took her brothers hand.

"I'm fine, Hermione, you don't have to stay," George murmured, without looking at her. She squeezed his hand and the redhead sighed and looked up. His eyes were red-rimmed and hollow.

"Stay? My bed's available!" Sirius said eagerly, shutting himself down quickly when both Remus and Hermione turned to glare at him.

"Okay, okay, I was only joking. Blimey."

"I know I don't. I'm going to anyway," the girl answered her fellow time traveller. George's smile was brief, but at least it was there.

"In a room with four other boys? Think of your reputation!"

Hermione snorted. "Since when have I ever worried about a trivial thing like my reputation?" she asked with a raised brow and a smirk. Sirius let out a slight choking sound and Hermione looked over to see him biting his hand as his body shook with laughter. She rolled her eyes again.

"Never," George muttered.

"Exactly. So I'm staying."

"But-"

"No buts!"

"Hermione, you really don't have to," Remus said quietly. "He has four of us here to look out for him." He glanced over at the closed curtains and frowned. "Well, three anyway."

Hermione hesitated, looking from face to face. Remus's was kind, his eyes moving from her to George and clinging ever so slightly. She pursed her lips in thought and filed that away to look over later. James looked a little reluctant, his eyes swimming with a look that the witch recognized, having seen it on Harry's face time and time again. It spoke of a multitude of painful memories. But if he was anything like his future son, and she knew he was, then we wouldn't let a little reluctance stop him from doing what was right. She had a strong suspicion that he would turn out to be trustworthy.

Sirius's brows rose when she glanced at him, a lazy grin making those grey eyes dance. She didn't know how she felt about him, wasn't sure if she could trust him as far as she could throw him. But one thing she did know was that he was loyal to his friends. Remus had said he would help, so he would, not wanting to let one of his best mates down.

Finally, she glanced back at George. The redhead was swaying slightly, his eyes barely open. One look told her he wouldn't be awake for much longer. His outburst had drained him and sleep was calling. With the others in the room, he'd have people there for him if he needed it. She really didn't need to stay.

She reached out and once again brushed back the hair that was falling in his face, startling him into awareness. She grinned at his indignant look.

"You need a haircut, brother," she said and George huffed.

"I do not. It's fine the way it is," he said in a voice that was very close to whining. Hermione's grin widened when his protest showed that he was back on an as even kilter as he could be at the moment.

"Whatever you say, George," she placated, fake indulgence coating her tone, before standing up and putting her hands on her hips.

"Come get me if he needs anything, and I do mean _anything,_" she said, addressing the other boys. George opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione held up her hand and surprising, he closed it again.

"You have our word," Remus said, James nodding in agreement. The witch looked at Sirius, who threw her a languid grin.

"Oh, I'm _always_ willing to visit a girl's dormitory, love," he said in a husky voice, seduction overlapping every word. Hermione rolled her eyes for the third time that night, doing her best to ignore the shudder that shot down her spine. The way he used those smoky eyes of his should have been illegal.

"Right, I'll leave you lot alone then," she said, heading for the door, wanting to get away from a certain wizard as soon as possible.

"'Mione."

She frowned and looked back at George, blinking at the fierce expression in his eyes. He certainly looked wide-awake now.

"I'm holding you to your promise."

Confusion ran through her, and she cocked her head, wondering what he was on about. It hit her suddenly and she blanched. Dear Merlin. In her desperation to stop George from doing something entirely stupid, she'd promised him that they'd make sure Peter eventually got what he deserved. Why the bloody hell had she done that for?

_See? Just because your book smart, doesn't make you street smart._

She scowled at her mocking thoughts, pushing them away, desperately trying to think of a way out of it. George must have realized what she was doing, because he scowled as well.

"You can either sit back and watch me or help me, sister. Either way, it's happening."

"What are they on about?" Sirius asked James in a very loud stage-whisper.

"Don't know, but whatever it is, I want in."

"I second that," Sirius answered and both boys turned to look at Hermione expectantly. George sent her a tired, somewhat triumphant grin. She sighed.

"We'll talk about that when the time comes," she stated firmly, scooting around making any sort of commitment. George threw her a look that said he knew exactly what she was doing. Hermione grimaced.

"Goodnight," she called over her shoulder as she hurried out of the room and down the stairs, shaking her head at her own idiotic daftness. Sweet Morgana. Now what was she going to do?

~0~

Back in the Marauders room, a short, chubby, rat-like boy was listening avidly from behind his closed bed-curtains. When the bossy, plain – and she _was_ plain, no amount of spinning on Sirius's part could change that – witch left, he brought his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them thoughtfully, ignoring the sound of his dorm mates as they reluctantly pulled out their homework or got ready for bed. Hmmm. Now this was interesting. The new students – which was suspicious enough anyway, since when did Hogwarts ever let in new students? They were clearly up to something. Something they didn't want the others to know about.

He sighed and stretched, idly scratching his arse, before laying back on the bed, a slow, almost malicious smile spreading across his face. Well, he'd just have to see about that, wouldn't he? Being the smallest, least interesting person in a well-known group came in handy sometimes. It was surprising what you could pick up when people were used to ignoring you.

His new friends_ – _important people, they were, which finally meant he was getting the recognition he deserved – would be very pleased with him if he was able to sniff out any information that might throw a Quaffle in their plans.

He rubbed his hands together in glee, closing his eyes as he imagined their well-earned awe and gratitude. Yes, very pleased indeed.


	10. Emotion on top of emotion

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: Hey, I can now say I actually own something apart from the plot! Everyone, Margo and Eloise are mine! No stealing! *narrows eyes in exaggerated menace* I'm watching you!

**A/N - Look, look, an early update! Mainly because the bloody chapter wouldn't leave me alone lol. Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter Ten – Emotion on top of emotion**

_He rubbed his hands together in glee, closing his eyes as he imagined their well-earned awe and gratitude. Yes, very pleased indeed._

* * *

Hermione rubbed her face tiredly as she got to the bottom of the boys stairs, the events of the day finally catching up with her. She sighed, wanting nothing more than to go to bed and bury her head under the covers. Maybe she just wouldn't come out again. Everything was a tangled knot of a mess, and she had absolutely no idea how to sort it out.

She knew George wouldn't leave the Pettigrew thing alone, and frankly, she couldn't blame him. A simple spell could fix everything, changing the future and making it so that Harry grew up with parents who loved him, not those horrid relatives of his. One simple spell could make everything better.

One simple spell could save so many lives, including the three boys whose room she'd just left.

_Yes, and what then, Hermione? You have no idea what you could do instead! You know that! You need to concentrate on not making any waves and just existing here, until Dumbledore finds you and George a way home!_

Hermione sighed again, leaning back against the wall as the weight of what making a single mistake could change, crashed over her. Her conscience was right. They would have to do their best not to change a thing, so that when they did get home, the world hadn't turned into a stinking pile of horse poo.

She pushed herself away from the wall and was about to head to her bed, when she felt malevolent eyes on her. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered her, she'd spent six years at Hogwarts with eyes constantly on her, both friendly and nasty. But with everything that had happened, she just couldn't ignore it this time.

She slowly turned to face the daggers being sent her way, a single brow rising when she saw a teenage girl sitting on one of the sofas beside the fire. She had perfectly coiled back hair, the darkest eyes Hermione had ever seen, and was staring at her with a vindictive smirk on her full, glossy-red lips. Hermione crossed her arms and cocked her head.

"Can I help you?" she asked, instinctively knowing that this girl was going to be trouble.

"Have fun up there, did you?" the girl answered in a voice that reminded Hermione a lot of Umbridge – or Umbitch as Fred had called her. Sugary and far too sweet. The two girls beside her tittered at each other, their eyes alight with anticipation. Hermione frowned.

"Excuse me?" she questioned, not entirely sure what she was going on about.

"Up there. In the Marauder's room. You had fun, didn't you? You must have, you seem to like throwing yourself at boys."

Hermione's spine went ramrod straight, her eyes widening as shock surged through her. Sure, she'd heard many different types of the same thing before, her two best friends were boys so she couldn't avoid it, but this girl was a complete stranger! She hadn't done a thing to her!

"You don't even know me," Hermione said. Everyone still in the Common Room were listening avidly, and could clearly hear her disbelief. "What gives you the right to say something like that?"

"Oh, I'm just calling them as I see them, duckie. With your little display earlier and then you just blaze on up to their room… well, it's obvious, isn't it?"

"My little… display?" Hermione repeated slowly, something trying to click together in her mind. She didn't mean…?

The girl smirked again, the expression even more cruel then last time. "Lying all over your, ah, 'brother'," she said, using air quotes. "There wasn't a part of you that wasn't touching him, was there? Tell me, do you share a bed as well?"

Hermione stared at her, dumbfounded. The accusations had come out of nowhere, blindsiding her. She was a strong girl who already knew that the best way to deal with a bully was to stand up to them – she'd had plenty of practise over the years – but she was emotionally and physically exhausted at the moment, and her usual bravado was completely absent.

"He's… he's my _brother,_" she whispered. The girl's smirk widened.

"But he isn't really, is he? Not by blood. You're adopted and quite clearly a lot closer to him then you've led everyone to believe. Now, you're going after the Marauders as well? Come on dearie, show a little restraint! It's not like they'll be interested anyway. I mean, look at you!"

Hermione reeled. The girls words were like a slap, sharp and to the point, hitting exactly where they were aimed. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, and even though she _knew_ that letting a bully see you cry was the last thing you should do, she just couldn't prevent them.

'_Mione, what are you doing?! Why are you letting this bint's words get to you?! She's just an unimportant little piece of fluff, who thinks she's better than everyone else! Buck up, love, and give her what for!_

Hermione blinked at her thoughts, once again reminded of a Weasley brother. Her shoulders drew back and she took a deep, steadying breath. Why _was_ she letting this horrid girl get to her? She'd dealt with Lavender and Parvati for six years, she couldn't handle much of the same from this girl? Though to be fair, Lavender and Parvati had never been this mean, not even while Lavender and Ron had been a couple.

She opened her mouth to let the girl know exactly what she thought of her, only to be interrupted by someone else.

"Oh, yes, and your _such_ a pillar of the community, aren't you, Margo?" Lily Evans said scornfully as she, Alice and another girl Hermione hadn't met yet, stepped up beside her. "You really shouldn't let your jealously get the better of you, dear. It's most unbecoming."

"Shut it, Evans, this doesn't have anything to do with you," the girl, Margo, snarled. Lily folded her arms and smiled serenely.

"It has everything to do with me when a seventh-year _Prefect_ is bullying someone, instead of setting a good example for the younger years!"

"Oh, come on, Lils, you know she only got the position because her _daddy_ bought it for her," Alice piped up. Hermione smiled when the girls face went red with anger.

"He did _not!_ I earned it fair and square!" she spluttered. Her eyes narrowed and fixed on the Head Girl. "At least I'm not a frigid little bitch who enjoys teasing and taunting Potter every chance she gets!"

The room gasped as Lily froze. She recovered quickly and drew herself up to her full height, her emerald green eyes flashing. Hermione pursed her lips and looked between the fuming Head Girl and her smirking enemy, wondering if the nasty piece of work knew exactly what she'd gotten herself into. Harry's eyes flashed like that right before he exploded – she'd seen them do it many times during the summer before fifth year – and, well, if it was like mother, like son…

Lily advanced on the sofa Margo was sitting on, all but stalking towards her, her hand fingering her wand sticking out the top of her jeans. Her eyes were narrowed and Hermione felt satisfaction rush through her as she watched the other girl's eyes widened and panic trickle into them.

"The _only_ reason I'm not hexing you into oblivion right now, is because I actually _want_ the younger years to have an example to follow!" Lily hissed, still stalking. She stopped suddenly and folded her arms again, smugness infusing her smile. "But of course, I _am_ Head Girl, aren't I? So that means I _can_ punish you! Detention for the next month sound fair."

"_What!"_ Margo shrieked as she jumped to her feet. "What the bloody hell for?"

"Well, I could say for being a bitch, but I don't think that would hold up," Lily answered, smirking when the room chuckled. "So I'll just say that it's for bullying, plain and simple. I'll inform Professor McGonagall that she should expect you the next four Saturday nights."

"You… you _harpy!"_ Margo cried, desperately looking around for some support. Unfortunately, her friends seemed to have abandoned her. Hermione snorted. Sometimes she just didn't understand how some people could end up in Gryffindor.

"Oh, completely, and proud of it," Lily agreed, smiling when Alice and her other friend laughed. "Just remember, Margo, I can make your busy love-life all but non-existent, so I'd watch your mouth if I was you, hmmm?"

"I'll get you back for this, Evans; just see that I don't!" Margo threatened in a shrill voice. Lily snorted.

"You and whose army?" she asked before turning and heading back towards Hermione. She took the older girl by the arm and smiled at her.

"Want to see where you're sleeping?" she asked. Hermione nodded.

"One sec," she said, turning to the horrible girl. She walked over to her and leaned down close until only she could hear.

"Just because Lily's too good to hex you, doesn't mean I'm not," she said in a very soft whisper. "If I ever hear you say such derogatory things about me and my brother again, you'll end up on the end of something you _really _won't like. Hear me?"

The girl hesitated for a moment and then sneered at her. "You're not the boss of me!"

Hermione chuckled. "Fantastic comeback, there, my friend," she said. She turned and headed towards the girls dormitory stairs where Lily, Alice and the other girl were waiting for her, feeling a lot better about herself. She was no longer the twelve-year-old girl who spent all afternoon crying in the toilets because of one stupid comment. She was Hermione Granger – no, she was Hermione _Brown,_ and she'd lived through a war. She could handle a spiteful teenage girl any day.

~0~

Hermione was shocked to find that her dormitory was the same one she'd spent her first round at Hogwarts in. There were only two, so she supposed it was a 50/50 chance anyway, but she was still pleased. It hadn't changed much and she took comfort in the familiar.

"That bed there appeared out of nowhere this morning, so I'm assuming it yours," Lily said as the girls trailed into the room. She turned and smiled kindly at their new roommate.

"Sorry about Margo. She's a mean-spirited git, always has been, so I wouldn't listen to a thing she says if I were you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Hermione said. Lily nodded and turned to indicate the other girls.

"You already know Alice," she said, and Hermione smiled at the curvy witch with the pixie-cut hairdo, who grinned back. "But I don't think you've met Eloise, have you?"

"No," Hermione answered. She stepped forward and held out her hand. "Hi. I'm Hermione Brown."

"Eloise Munchkin," the girl answered with a large smile. "And, yes, that _is_ my real last name."

Hermione laughed. "Wasn't going to say a thing."

"Course you weren't," the girl agreed cheerfully. Her thick, short blond hair was pulled back into a stubby ponytail and she had one blue eye, one green eye. It was quite a startling effect.

"So, make yourself at home," Lily said. "Not that you've got much to do that with."

"Yeah, where is your stuff?" Eloise asked curiously, as everyone settled on their beds. She blinked when Lily and Alice frowned at her. "What? I'm only asking!"

"At Hogsmeade," Hermione answered, thinking quickly. "George and I are going to pick it up soon."

"Why didn't it just come with you?" Eloise asked.

"We, ah, we didn't know if we were staying or not, or even if Dumbledore was going to let us in at all," the witch lied. "We were staying in the village while he made up his mind, and then this placement was a sudden thing, so we haven't had a change to go back for it yet."

"Oh. Okay then," Eloise said and Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief. Merlin, she really needed to learn to lie better! Though she must have done okay this time, because the girl had dropped the subject, apparently satisfied.

"So, how's your love-life, Hermione?" Alice asked eagerly, changing the subject. "Got a man?"

Lily groaned. "Merlin, Alice, that's all you ever think about!"

"Hey, it's a perfectly respectable question!" Alice protested. Lily shook her head.

"Alice has a long-term boyfriend whom she's very happy with, and now she wants everyone else to be just as happy," she explained. Alice nodded enthusiastically.

"He's going to be an Auror, you know, just like me! He's in training now. I can't wait to join him!"

Hermione frowned and then her eyes went wide as, once again, something clicked. "His name isn't… Frank is it?" she asked tentatively.

"Yup. How'd you know?" Alice asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Just a good guess," she said in an absent tone. Bloody buggering hell. She was sharing a room with Neville Longbottom's Mum! Merlin, she'd thought Harry's was going to be hard enough! Now, Neville's as well?

"Really good guess," Alice agreed. "So, how about you? Got anyone?"

"Umm, no. Not, ah, not really," Hermione replied, snapping back to the conversation and answering automatically. All three girls frowned.

"Not really?" Eloise questioned.

"Umm, well… I actually have no idea."

"Ooh, okay, juicy details please," Alice said. Hermione's laugh was a touch nervous.

"Well, he's one of my best friends and I've always thought it would turn out to be more…"

"Has it?" Lily asked.

Hermione nodded slowly. "Sort of. I don't know. We've kissed once, but nothing after that."

The time traveller was slightly surprised at how easy it was to talk to these girls. She'd never had a close female friend apart from Ginny, and they hadn't really spoken about this sort of thing all that much. When they did, it was rather awkward, what with Hermione's interest being Ginny's brother, and Ginny's interest being Hermione's best friend. They'd mainly avoided the topic altogether, which Hermione hadn't really minded. She'd never been the type to gossip about boys.

She was finding it not all that hard to do now though. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she hadn't known these girls for years, so they didn't expect her to act a certain way. It was rather refreshing actually.

"Why not?" Eloise asked. "Do you not like him?"

"I thought I did. I thought I might even actually, ah, love him. But then we kissed and afterwards, he acted like it never happened. I took my cue from him and, well… you get the picture."

Alice groaned and fell back on her bed. "Boys," she sighed.

"I don't think it was entirely his fault," Hermione said quietly. "I never confronted him about it. I just let it go."

"So maybe you_ don't_ want anything more with him," Lily suggested gently. Hermione looked at her, sighed and shook her head.

"I really can't answer that. I enjoyed the kiss, but was a little relieved when he didn't pursue it. Then again, everyone expected this from us for years, me included. I like him, a lot, and I would love it if we went further, but then I wouldn't."

She copied Alice, falling back on her bed in defeat. "Merlin, I'm so bloody confused!"

_Or I had been until this little adventure happened,_ she thought. She frowned when she suddenly realized that she hadn't thought of Ron all that much since she'd come to the past. She'd thought of Harry just as much, and he'd only ever been a friend. If she loved Ron as she thought she did, shouldn't she be thinking of him all the time?

The girls chuckled at her moan. "Don't worry, Hermione, we've all had the same feeling once in a while," Lily said.

"You now more than ever, eh Lils?" Alice asked slyly. The redhead glared at her.

"Yeah, so what _is _between you and James Potter?" Hermione asked as she leant up on her elbows, wanting to know close to existence Harry was. She wrinkled her nose at that thought. Eww.

"James? What are you on about? There's nothing between us!" Lily protested, a little too exuberantly. Hermione smirked.

"Lily, I'm new here, and even I noticed it," she said, making Alice and Eloise laugh. Lily pouted and folded her arms in indignation.

"Lils here, is a little put out," Alice said with a pointed thumb at the long-haired witch. "Potter used to ask her out five times a day-"

"Not _that_ many!" Lily whined. Alice grinned.

"Yes, it _was_ basically that many, Lils. Now though, I can't remember the last time he did it."

"He asked me last week," Lily said quietly.

"But that's not the same as all day, every day, is it?" Eloise said. Lily frowned.

"We think that little miss Head Girl here might be missing being Potter's 'Lily-flower'," Alice said.

"I am not!" Lily exclaimed.

"Yes, that's why you're following him around everywhere," Eloise said dryly.

"He's… he's just… he's not smiling, okay!" Lily blurted, shutting both her friends up. "He's James Potter, for Godric's sake! He's one of the founders of the Marauders, a prankster, a constantly happy person! It isn't right!"

"Seems to me you care more about him then you think you do," Hermione said softly. Lily stared at her for a long moment and then, imitating the other two, fell back as well.

"Dear Merlin, I think I like James Potter," she said faintly, horror underlining the words. Hermione grinned to herself, very pleased to hear this. Harry _was_ on the way.

"Soooo... back to Hermione then," Eloise said as Alice got up and took Lily's hand in comfort. "This bloke of yours. What's his name?"

"Ron," Hermione answered.

"Yeah, him. How'd he react when he found out you were coming here?"

"He, ah, he didn't know."

Lily surged up and stared at Hermione in disbelief.

"You didn't _tell_ him?" she demanded. Hermione shrugged and looked down.

"It really was a spur of the moment thing," she muttered.

"Okay. Umm, wow. You're probably going to end up getting some sort of reaction when you get home then," Alice said. A corner of Hermione's mouth turned up.

"Probably," she agreed.

"But what about Sirius then?" Eloise asked. "He's obviously interested in you-"

"Which is one of the main reason's why Margo had a go at you before, by the way," Lily said. "She's had a thing for Black for years, and just before you showed up, it looked like he might actually be finally showing interest back. Now, he's ignoring her again and looking at you instead."

"Well, he can look all he likes, nothing's going to happen," Hermione stated firmly.

"So you're not interested in him at all then?" Eloise asked.

"Ah… n-no. No. I'm not," Hermione said, frowning at the way those words seemed to be a little hard to say. "Why? Are you?"

"Me?" Eloise said, surprise lighting her multi-coloured eyes. "Merlin, no! He's ah, he's not at all my type… if you know what I mean."

Eloise stared at her and Hermione blinked, wondering how Sirius Black could possibly not be someone's type. It clicked when she saw how close the other two girls were watching her as well.

"Oh. Oh!"

"Do you have a problem with that?" Eloise asked, the question more curious then threatening. Hermione hurriedly shook her head.

"No, of course not! I mean, George is gay, so- ah, bloody hell."

She trailed off and continued to swear under her breath, calling herself all kinds of idiot. Just because she'd walked in on him snogging Blaise Zabini's brains out in fourth year, confirming her suspicions then, didn't mean she had to spread it to the world!

"Please keep that to yourselves," she pleaded gently. "George is… well, he's going through a hard time at the moment, and doesn't need something else piled on top. It should be up to him whether he wants to tell anyone."

"Of course we won't tell anyone," Lily said, Alice and Eloise nodding in agreement.

"I'm sorry I sort of forced you to out him, but I needed to know how you were going to react, especially considering we're sharing a room," Eloise said.

"I understand and have no problem with it at all," Hermione said. Eloise's shoulders slumped in relief.

"Good. Now, as much fun as this is, I've still got that Charms essay to complete," the witch said, Alice groaning in agreement.

"If you hadn't left it until the last minute, you wouldn't need to cram now, would you?" Lily scolded. Eloise and Alice grumbled and Hermione smiled, falling back on the bed again.

She yawned. Today had been a long day. She'd had a full day of classes, stopped George from attacking Peter, stupidly promised George that they _would _eventually get the rat, faced off against a nasty bully, and then…

_Made friends,_ she thought as she watched the three girls bustle around, Lily still scolding. She grinned and closed her eyes, content to welcome sleep, not even realizing she'd already broken her oath about not becoming involved.

Hermione Granger had done something she very rarely did.

She'd actually made some new friends.


	11. Insomniacs unite

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, yadda, yadda, yadda.

**Chapter Eleven – Insomniacs unite**

_Hermione Granger had done something she did very rarely. S__he'd actually made some new friends._

* * *

James Potter woke with a start. He sat up abruptly in his bed, his heart pounding in his ribcage, hazel eyes whipping around the room as he tried to catch whatever had woken him. As it was the middle of the night and he wasn't wearing his glasses, he of course, didn't find anything. But that still didn't stop the adrenalin from pumping through his system.

_Calm down, Jamie,_ his father's voice whispered in his head. _You'll never get back to sleep if you've got ants in your pants!_

He sighed at the memory of the familiar saying. His father had said it all the time when James was a boy and had woken up from a bad dream. He'd then always talked his son through a few deep breaths, slowing his heart rate – usually resulting in the boy falling asleep in his parents bed.

James drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, hugging them tight as his chest ached. He loved and hated thinking about his Dad. It was always a comfort when those memories swam through his mind, but it was painful as well.

A lot more painful then he cared to admit.

Maybe it might not have been so bad if his father had died of old age – his parents had been very late bloomers, meaning that when most people first met them, they assumed that Mr and Mrs Potter were James's grandparents rather than his parents. He'd never really minded that, had in fact, teased them about it quite a lot. Yes, he did think that maybe it might have been better if Charlus Potter had died of natural causes. James had always sort of been anticipating that, ever since he grew old enough to realize what it meant that his parents were older than his schoolmates' parents.

But he hadn't died of natural causes. Far from it. And that was one of the things that haunted James the most.

James hadn't _truly_ believed that a war was coming until the day he and Sirius had walked in his front door, to find his Mum weeping into one of his Dad's shirts. He'd rushed to her side immediately, demanding to know who or what had upset her. His mother had looked at him in horror and then just cried harder – her best friend had been the one who had eventually told him, his mother far too distraught.

His father was dead. Killed in an explosion at a popular muggle dining house – one he'd gone to, to retrieve his wayward son.

The fact that it was a magical attack was very clear to those who knew what to look for. The muggle police hadn't, and had ruled it as a faulty gas line. Tragic, but completely accidental. It hadn't been a busy night, fortunately, but 43 lives had still been lost, half of them staff. The muggles had mourned and held a ceremony at the sight, but they'd moved on quickly. London was after all, a dark city at times, and more sinister, more _interesting_ things happened every day.

James sighed again as he listened to Peter's loud snoring. His three mates were still asleep, as they should be. Just like James should be. He knew though that that probably wasn't going to happen again tonight. James hadn't been able to sleep a full night since he'd found out that his actions had led to his father's death.

Why, why, _why _had he gone out that night? Why couldn't he have been satisfied with staying in, raiding his own kitchens and liquor cabinet? No, that had just been to _tame _for him, hadn't it? He'd wanted to do something he'd never done before. So he and Sirius headed for Muggle London with the intention of diving into the unknown, comfortable in the knowledge that nobody could stop them – they _were_ overage after all.

They'd eaten and had had quite a bit to drink – indulging in both muggle whiskey and rum. They'd eventually gotten a little rowdy, caused a bit of a ruckus, one which a colleague of his fathers had witnessed, and had, of course, let him know about. They hadn't been there when Charlus had arrived though. They'd already been kicked out.

The older wizard had walked in the door and, five minutes later, the place had blown up.

He exhaled a painful breath and quietly got out of bed, not wanting to sit around in the dark anymore. He knew what he was doing. He father had always called it moping. He also knew that Padfoot thought he was doing it too often. Though Sirius had mourned Charlus's death, he hadn't taken the blame to heart like James had. No one actually knew that James blamed himself. It wasn't any one else's business, and he definitely didn't want anyone trying their best to talk him out of it.

It didn't matter that, like everyone else, Sirius believed it was a wrong place, wrong time situation. Charlus Potter had gone to that diner for one reason and one reason only.

He'd died for one reason and one reason only.

It was as he was passing the new bed that he realized what had provoked the panic that had woken him up. The bed was empty, but it didn't look like it had been empty for long. James frowned slightly and, after slipping on his glasses and his dressing gown, heading for the door, wondering what their new dorm-mate was doing up and awake at this time of night.

He found George in the Common Room, sitting on one of the sofas next to the softly burning fire. The redhead was staring into it, his face pale, his body tense and his arm wrapped around his chest. James walked over and sat down beside him, looking at the newcomers profile.

"You right there, mate?" he asked quietly.

George stilled, making James realize that he hadn't heard him approach. His head turned and the older boy looked at him briefly before turning back to the fire. He shrugged.

"Been better," he muttered. "You?"

"Bout the same, really," James answered, still watching him. Frankly, he was pleased to focus on something other than his own issues. George was obviously grieving – you didn't need to be going through the same thing to recognize that – and James found himself wanting to help.

The fact that his friends and family wanted to do exactly the same thing with him didn't even register.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" James asked.

"You just did, didn't you," George grumbled.

The bi-speckled boy grinned. "So, another one."

"I don't think it really matters if I mind, you're just going to ask anyway," George pointed out.

"Ah, that's true, but that doesn't mean you have to answer."

George turned around completely, a frown replacing the sorrow in his eyes. "Well, what is it then?"

"Who'd you lose?"

Silence followed his question as the redhead stilled and stared at him, his eyes widening slightly. James casually glanced down at the homework some student had left lying on the floor, not wanting the question to seem like a big deal. The silence stretched on and James, concluding that he wasn't going to get an answer, had just gotten up with the thought of raiding the kitchens, when-

"My twin brother."

He sat back down quickly, understanding now why the redhead had been acting the way he had. Merlin, losing his Dad had been hard enough; he couldn't even imagine losing a brother, let alone a _twin._

"Umm. Wow. That's… that's just shite."

George's eyes widened again and a short, surprised laugh escaped him. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"How long ago?"

The newcomer sighed and turned back to the fire. "Four weeks, four days, three hours and about eleven minutes ago."

James blinked, more than a little shocked. To know down to the minute… he knew the day his Dad had died, couldn't get it out of his head, but for it to impact like _that…_

"I lost my father during the summer."

George turned back to him as James sat there, shocked once again. He hadn't spoken about it with anyone since he'd all but bawled in Sirius's arms the night he'd found out. He hadn't brought it up again, and his mates had taken their cue from him. To bring it up now, with a bloke who was almost a complete stranger, had not been in the cards at all.

"Oh. Ah, sorry."

James smiled at the redheads' uncomfortable expression. "Thanks. It was, ah, quite sudden and unexpected. Threw me arse over tits actually. You don't realize how important they are until they're not there anymore."

"No. You don't," George said slowly, his eyes on James's face. He blinked and frowned. "Look, I don't mean to be rude-"

"You wouldn't have said that if you were going to be polite."

Once again, George let out a burst of surprised laughter. "That's true. The thing is though; I'm really not up to a girly chat about my feelings at the moment-"

"I'm not offering a girly chat about your feelings," James interrupted again, shuddering. "Not my cup of tea either. Fact is, I'd probably be pants at it anyway."

"Oh. Okay. Then I don't understand why you just told me what you did."

James pursed his lips in thought before shrugging. "Honestly, I've no clue myself. Could be that you're going to be stuck with us for the rest of the year and you seem like a decent enough bloke – maybe I'm extending the hand of friendship. Or it could be that both of us can't sleep at three in the morning for basically the same reason – maybe I'm satisfying your curiosity about why I came down here."

He stood up and put his hand on George's shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. "Or maybe I'm just letting you know that you're not as alone as you seem to think you are, though judging from a single conversation with your sister, you're not ever going to be alone."

A corner of George's mouth kicked up. "She's a feisty one, 'Mione is."

"There's an understatement," James said dryly and George chuckled. "So, any of those reasons could be true. How about you just pick one and think what you like about it, yeah?"

George studied him for a moment. "Alright."

"Brilliant. Now, I was thinking of taking a trip to the kitchens, but a little midnight tipple sounds like a better idea. Want to join me for a butterbeer or two?"

George's brows rose in amusement. "You have a stash somewhere?"

"Let's just say that Sirius and I are on excellent terms with an innkeeper, who just happens to have a house-elf on excellent terms with a few of his own kind in the castle," James said with a small smile.

"So in other words, you have a stash," George surmised.

"And then some," James replied, his smile widening when George laughed – a full laugh, holding just only a touch of sadness. "Care to partake?"

The older boy pursed his lips. "Got anything stronger?"

James's smirk was lightening quick, making him look more like the boy who had irritated Lily Evans for six years. "I believe I do. Firewhiskey?"

"That'll do. Lead the way, Marauder Sir," George said as he stood up. James saluted him and they headed back up to their dorm, both of them feeling a lot better than they had when they'd first woken up, if only for a brief time.

~0~

James woke again the next morning to a furry tongue, a slight headache, and his best mates feverish muttering. He cracked open his eyes and, groaning a little as movement made the pain in his head escalate until it had moved quite a bit past 'slight', he tugged back the bed-curtains and glared at the offender who had interrupted his beauty sleep.

"Padfoot, mate, what are you doing? It's too early," he grumbled. Sirius didn't acknowledge him, just kept throwing the contents of his trunk everywhere.

"Shit, shit, shit. Bloody buggering hell! Where the bloody hell is it? It was in here, I know it was! I put the ward on myself! Ah, for fucks sake, they're going to murder me if I've gone and lost it! No, no, I didn't lose it! I _put _it in here! I would never lose it!"

"Lose what?" James asked as he dragged himself from his warm bed and slowly made his way over to his friend. Remus and Peter's curtains were still closed, both boys obviously still asleep. James paused for a moment when he saw that once again, the new bed was empty. He frowned. He'd woken Sirius when they'd gotten back to the dorm, and then they'd had a couple more than a couple of firewhiskeys – hence why he was wishing his head would fall off. They all hadn't gone back to bed until the very early hours. James felt like he'd only been asleep a short time, and since he didn't have any morning classes, he would really like to have spent his morning in bed.

He didn't know George's schedule, but he'd assumed the newcomer was going to skip at least his first class. He'd had just as much as James and Sirius, maybe even more. What was he doing up already, at this bloody awful hour?

Putting it to the back of his mind, he continued over to Sirius, who was still searching rather desperately. Half of his body was buried in the trunk, his muttering muffled by the depths of it. James stopped behind him, cocked his head in thought and then booted Sirius up the arse.

He smirked when the movement shoved Sirius forward, smashing his head on the inner side of the trunk. His painful yelp and string of curses made James feel a lot better, the smirk widening when the Black wizard tumbled backwards and ended up sprawled on the floor.

"Morning, sunshine," James chirped, grinning when Sirius glared up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Trying not to get killed by my best mate," the boy grumbled as he reached up to rub his head. "Why'd you kick me for? There are other ways to get my attention, you know!"

"Those ones aren't nearly as fun, though," James said in a winning smile. "Want to tell me why you've covered the floor with your stuff at this disgusting hour of the morning? Not that it's much different from usual…"

"Oi, you're as messy as I am," Sirius protested. "And I have a very good reason for throwing my stuff around. The Map."

James waited a beat. When nothing more was forth coming, he widened his eyes and crouched down, slowly reaching out to give his mates shoulder a congratulatory pat, as if he was a two-year-old.

"Yes, Sirius. The Map. That's good. Well done."

"No, you don't get it!" Sirius cried as he got to his knees and crawled back over to his trunk, swearing when he ran over multiple sharp objects.

"Well, that's because you haven't actually given me anything to get," James said. He grinned again when Sirius growled.

"Quit joking, Prongs, this is serious!"

James bit his tongue to prevent the obvious joke from spilling out, a trickle of concern running through him. Quit joking? Sirius Black only ever did that, or wanted someone else to do that, when something was _serious. _He frowned as he watched his friend return to the innards of his trunk.

"What's wrong, Padfoot?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Sirius groaned again and fell back from his trunk, sitting on the floor in front of it. "It's not here. It's gone."

"What's gone?" James questioned and then his eyes widened for real this time, as he put two and two together.

"The Map?"

"Yes!" Sirius snapped. "It's gone, and I _know_ I put it in here! I even had it warded!"

"So… what? We've been robbed?" James asked slowly, his disbelief palatable. That couldn't be right! They were The Marauders for Merlin's sake! Who would dare to steal from them? The very thought of the retribution him and his three friends would bring down on the thief's head, should have preventing them from even considering the idea!

"I think we have," Sirius said in a grim voice.

"We can't have though! No one but us knows about it!"

"Someone must have found out somehow, because it isn't here."

James opened his mouth and then closed it again, completely at a loss of what to say. Or do. Nothing like this had ever happened before. He sat back on the floor and stared at his mate, his headache all but forgotten.

"What do we do?" he asked quietly. If that Map fell into the wrong hands… he shuddered as he thought of it being put to use by some of the other students, the Slytherins especially. He knew that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was recruiting, and if that slimy git found a way into the castle without Dumbledore's knowledge… he shuddered again, harder this time.

Sirius's mouth formed a hard line and his grey eyes sparked with anger and determination, the hands fisting at his sides emphasizing his resolve. He slowly got to his feet and closed the lid of his trunk, pulling James up as well, an evil smirk spreading across his face as his wrath began to suffocate the room.

"What we do, mate, is find out who took it and get it back. And then we crush them like the bugs they are."

James smirked as well. "Sounds like a solid plan."

"Oh, yes. One I'm _really_ going to enjoy. This thief is going to rue the day he stole from The Marauders, let me tell you. Rue it like no one's ever rued before."


	12. Friends and reprisals

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: I'm writing Harry Potter while Harry Potter's on TV. Hey, do you think that means something? Like maybe I own it now? No? Oh, well, no harm in trying!

**Chapter Twelve – Friends and reprisals**

"_Oh, yes. One I'm really going to enjoy. This thief is going to rue the day he stole from the Marauders, let me tell you. Rue like no one's ever rued before."_

* * *

The four Marauders were understandably distracted as they went down to breakfast that morning. James hadn't gone back to bed like he'd previously wished. The two seventh-year boys had instead woken their dorm-mates and fellow pranksters, filling them in on their predicament.

Remus had been both shocked and highly concerned. He'd said a number of times that he didn't understand how someone had gotten past Sirius's wards. The long-haired wizard was the best of the four at Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was one of the classes he actually paid attention in. For someone to get past one of _his_ wards, they would have had to be an extremely well-studied witch or wizard.

Peter had been silently intrigued. He was a lot more intelligent then he let on, and he believed that this thief, whoever they were, would be a good ally to have. Maybe he would be able to convince them to help his new friends and their mighty cause. Though he mentally rubbed his hands together in anticipation, he of course, kept these thoughts to himself and concentrated on looking befuddled, confused and worried.

The boys were discussing it in shallow whispers as they made their way to the Great Hall.

"What about the new bloke? George?" Peter suggested eagerly as they travelled. "He wasn't in bed this morning. He could have done it!"

"Yes, Wormy, he _really_ could have broken into a warded trunk, in a room full of sleeping wizards, in the short time between when we stopped drinking and I got up to retrieve the Map," Sirius said, his sarcasm honed to a point. The smaller boy pouted and looked down.

"It was just a suggestion," he muttered. One he decided he would keep pushing to the forefront. It would be easier to find out what was up with the brother and sister if his friends weren't all buddy-buddy with them.

"Not a very good one, Pete," James said tiredly. "He was up most of the night, in no condition to do any sneaking about, believe me."

"He could have been faking it," Peter huffed.

"He wasn't," James said in a soft voice.

"I agree," Remus said, reaching over to squeeze his mates arm in sympathy. "George didn't do this, Peter. He was in the H Wing up until yesterday morning, and then in classes all day. He just didn't have time."

"You'd be surprised what you can do with a very limited amount of time," Peter muttered under his breath. James frowned and looked at him sharply.

"What's that?"

"Nothing. I just think we should keep an eye on him," the chubby boy said. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"You do that, Petey, if you feel you have to, while we concentrate on finding the real thief," he grumbled.

None of the other three saw their friend grin slyly.

They pushed open the doors of the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table. Even though they were distracted, they were still quick to notice that the student body was awash with whispers. They instinctively slowed and James's eyes narrowed as he watched multiple students mutter to their friends, glance pointedly over at the Gryffindor's, look expectantly towards the doors, and then turn back and laugh behind their hands. The Slytherin's seemed to be leading this, though the other two houses weren't far behind. James frowned and exchanged a confused look with Sirius.

"What's going on?" Remus muttered. James shrugged.

"Search me," Sirius answered. "It must be something interesting though. I vote we find out."

"I second that," James said. The four friends sat down at their table and Sirius turned to his neighbour.

"What's the school up in arms about, love?" he asked.

The fourth-year girl he'd asked, Mary MacDonald, grinned back at him cheerfully.

"Oh, that's right, you lot weren't there, were you," she chuckled. "You certainly missed all the fun then!"

"Come on, Mare, don't keep us in suspense! What are you on about?" Sirius said as he leaned towards the girl. James propped his cheek on his hand, his elbow balanced on the table. He raised his eyebrows expectantly as Mary looked over at him, smirking.

"It's got a lot to do with your flower, James," she teased. The Head Boy sat up quickly.

"Lily? What's my girl got to do with it?" he asked. He looked over when Remus snorted softly.

"She's your girl now?" the werewolf asked. "When did that happen?"

"She's always been my girl, Moony, she just won't acknowledge it," James answered before turning back to Mary. "What happened?"

"Head Girl Lily Evans had a vicious verbal battle with one Miss Margo Edgecombe last night," Mary announced with relish. "Right in the middle of the Common Room too."

"Reeaally?" Sirius drawled, turning to grin at James. "Miss Priss Lily let her have one? Thought she only did that with Prongs!"

"Must not, because she went at her and then some," Mary said with her own grin. "Margo was having a go at the new girl, Hermione, and-"

"Wait. What's this?" Sirius interrupted, his delighted expression turning into a frown. "Miss Brown was involved?"

"Yeah," Mary answered with a nod. "Margo was being really snarky and mean, saying truly horrible things about her and her brother-"

"Oh? What exactly did this girl say?" a new voice interrupted, the Marauders and Mary turning to see George Brown standing behind them. James frowned at him, feeling a little annoyed. Apart from looking pale – which he'd already been anyway – the redhead was showing no signs of a morning after indulging. James's headache had come back as soon as he'd begun heading down to breakfast.

The younger girl blushed heavily and looked down at the table as George rounded it and sat down in front of her.

"She said… umm, she… ah…"

"Mary," Sirius said quietly, placing his hand on her shoulder in comfort. "What did she say?"

"She said… she basically said that Hermione was a slag who was clearly shagging her brother, and was now trying for you four as well."

The fourteen-year-old muttered the sentence very quickly, her eyes on the table as her face burned bright red.

"That bitch," Sirius growled after a moment of shocked silence. "I mean, I don't mind if the school believes Hermione's shagging me, it's going to happen at some point anyway-"

"It is?" George asked in a soft voice. Sirius looked up and met the older boy's gaze steadily.

"I'm hoping so," he answered honestly. James shook his head as George stared at his best mate for a moment, before slowly turning back to Mary. Sirius's arrogance was a bit of a detriment at times. If he wasn't careful, he might just end up on the end of one pissed off brother's fist.

James grinned. That actually might be interesting to see.

"Why clearly?" Remus asked, his tone quiet as well. He cocked his head when Mary looked up and frowned at him. "You said that she was clearly, ah, shagging her brother. Why clearly?"

Mary's gaze shot to the redhead and then she looked at the table again. James couldn't help feeling a little sorry for her. He would bet his broom that when she'd started, she hadn't anticipated telling this tale to one of the character's brothers.

"Because of the way she was lying on him," she said, once again very quickly. She looked up and her pixie face was twisted in disgust. "She turned an innocent gesture meant to comfort, into a slimy, indecent act. She's now got the whole school believing that Hermione is, ah, you know. Because of that."

"Where's this girl then?" George asked after a beat, his voice still soft. Mary silently pointed down the table where Margo sat, preening as members of the other houses surrounded her.

"Hmmm," George said, his eyes on her. He turned back to the others and didn't say anything else.

"So where does my Lily come into it?" James asked.

"Oh, yeah, she defended Hermione," Mary said, perking back up again. "The new girl was just standing there, looking tired and downtrodden, when Lily, Alice and Eloise marched up. Lily and Margo started going at each other, I thought Lils was actually going to draw her wand when Margo said something _really _nasty – and no, I'm not going to repeat it," she said when James opened his mouth. "Let's just say it involved you and was along the same lines of what she said about Hermione. That girl seems to have a one track mind."

The fourth-year sent the older girl a dark look. James and Sirius grinned at each other. Mary was going to be a force to be reckoned with when she got older.

Pity they wouldn't be around to see it.

"Did she hex her?" James asked brightly, hoping against hope that she did. He loved it when his Lily got riled up. He swore that there was nothing sexier than Lily Evans with flushed cheeks and flashing eyes.

"No," Mary said, making James droop a little in disappointment. "She said the only reason why she didn't was because she was setting an example. She did give her detention though."

The girl smirked widely. "Every Saturday night for the next month."

"Ooh, ouch," Sirius cringed while James chuckled. "Bet Margo did _not _like that!"

"I can confirm that she indeed did not," Mary grinned. "I don't think I've ever heard her shriek so loudly."

"What happened next?" Peter asked, munching on some toast. Mary shrugged.

"That's about it, really. Margo said she would get Lily back-"

"Yeah, good luck with that," James snorted.

"-and then they went up to their dorm. Oh, Hermione did say something to Margo before she left, though."

"What?" Sirius asked.

"No clue," the girl answered. "She whispered it to her. But whatever it was, it had Margo scared. The girl looked like she was going to piss her pants when Hermione stepped back from her. And Hermione was wearing this awesomely confident smile. I reckon it was a threat."

"It was, probably," George said as he pushed his eggs around his plate. "'Mione isn't one to be trifled with."

He said it randomly, but James had a sneaky suspicion that it was aimed at a particular wizard. Going by the grin on Sirius's face, James figured shared the same suspicion.

The Black wizard had just opened his mouth to comment with the Hall went abruptly silent. James looked up to see the student body focused on the doors. The Head Boy followed their gaze to see Eloise Munchkin, Alice MacMillan, his Lily-flower and…

One Miss Hermione Brown.

The bushy-haired witch stood stiff in the doorway, her lips folding as the school stared at her. Her chin went up when the whispers began again, sly looks and titters accompanying them. The other three girls frowned and stepped up behind her, Lily putting her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

James looked at Sirius and Remus. "Well, if she's shagging us anyway, what's say we…?"

"Go claim what's ours? Too right!" Sirius crowed. James grinned while Remus rolled his eyes. The three of them stood up, George watching with a tiny smile on his face.

Once again, none of them noticed that the fourth Marauder didn't join them.

~0~

"Well, hello there, love!" Sirius cried as the three boys walked over and surrounded the four girls. "Enjoyed your four – no, fivesome, was it?"

For a second it looked like Hermione was going to freeze him out, but then Sirius put his arm around her, James and Remus flanking in behind. With her dorm-mates following closely behind, they escorted the witch over to the Gryffindor table, Sirius wearing a silly, couldn't-care-less grin the entire way.

By the time they got there, Hermione was a lot more relaxed. James smiled to himself as she sat down, Sirius beside her. For once, she wasn't glaring at his mate – in fact, the look she sent him was rather grateful and just a touch friendly.

"You do realize that you probably just made the rumours worse," his Lily pointed out as she, Alice and Eloise sat down beside Hermione. Remus sat back down beside George with James beside him, across from the Head Girl. Mary had already moved down the table to some of the other fourth-years. James grinned at Lily.

"Probably," he agreed with a shrug. "But the best way to deal with a rumour is to face it head on. Denying will just keep it circling. If Hermione shows the school she doesn't care what they say about her, it'll die all the more quickly."

"Besides," Sirius added with a wink at the witch next to him. "Miss Brown doesn't give two hoots about what a jealous hag leads others to say about her, does she?"

"Course she doesn't," Eloise answered for her. "She's got much more class then that."

The grateful expression in Hermione's eyes grew exponentially, and she took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. When she looked around the table again, her gaze was confident and steady once more.

"You're right," she said quietly. "I don't give a rat's arse about what _she _thinks. Or anyone else for that matter."

James snorted into his pumpkin juice while Sirius looked over at Peter, who was sitting on the outside of the group, ploughing through a Full English.

"Hear that, Wormy? This super-witch doesn't give a _rat's_ arse what anyone thinks of her. Isn't that exactly the right attitude to have?"

"Whatever you say, Padfoot," Peter mumbled, not looking up.

"Well, I think it is," Sirius stated. His eyes lit when Hermione smiled at him.

"I agree," Remus said. James watched with interest as his mate picked up the plate of cold, uneaten eggs sitting in front of George, and replaced it with a plate of a piece of toast with marmalade, some fried tomatoes and mushrooms and a couple of sausages. He didn't say anything to the older boy, just went back to his own breakfast. James's brows winged when George stared down at the meal for a moment, looked over at Remus and then, also without saying a word, began to eat.

He smirked to himself and looked up to see Hermione watching the pair as well, her gaze considering. She met his eyes and smiled a little before turning back to Sirius, who was chattering away like a daft pillock.

"So, Potter, you've moved on from Lils then?" Alice teased him with a nudge at her redhead friend, who rolled her eyes. "Trying something new, are you?"

"Something new? Whatever gave you that idea, Al?" James answered with a smile.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that you haven't trumpeted your catchphrase in quite a wee while?"

"Catchphrase?" James queried with a genuine frown.

Alice and Eloise looked at each other before turning as one to James.

"Evans, will you go out with me?" they parroted together, making everyone laugh. James just continued to frown.

"I haven't?" he muttered to himself, a little confused.

"No."

He looked over at the quite murmur across from him. Lily was busy adding syrup to her porridge. James blinked.

"Oh. Ah, I did last week, didn't I?"

"Yes," Lily answered softly, not looking at him.

"But not since?"

"No."

"Hmm," James said. "Well. That's…"

"Unusual."

"It is," James agreed. He dipped his head slightly, trying to catch her eyes. She didn't look up.

"I'll just have to make up for it, won't I?"

"It's okay, James," she murmured, concentrating on her meal. The Head Boy's mouth fell open. Had she just called him… James?

"No, it really isn't," he argued. He hadn't realized he'd been so out of it. So caught up in his guilt. He'd been trying to keep up appearances – which hadn't really been working, at least not with his mates – but he'd thought he was fooling everyone else. Obviously not. To neglect what he'd been devoted too for six years was almost unthinkable.

And going by this rather unfamiliar conversation with his devotee, maybe, just maybe, she'd been missing it as well.

He froze with his fork half way to his mouth.

Could Lily Evans actually like him?

As in, _like_ like him?

He dropped his fork and his hand shot across the table, latching onto her arm. Lily looked up, a slight frown on her face.

"Oh, lovely, oh, _glorious_, oh, beautiful, _bountiful_ Lily, will you do the greatest honour in the universe by going out with me?"

Their group went silent at the loud, extravagant request, everyone watching the Head Boy and Girl as he pleaded with her with his eyes, his hand over his heart. Lily pursed her lips in thought.

"Potter, did you just call me fat?"

James gasped. "What? No! Of course not!" he protested as he quickly let go of her arm and sat back.

"I think you did, Prongs," Sirius chuckled.

"No, I didn't!"

"Munch, does 'bountiful' mean something different to you than it does to me?" the Marauder asked as he turned to the Eloise.

"It definitely doesn't, Black, and don't call me Munch."

"So you did call her fat, my boy," Sirius pointed out cheerily, ignoring the other witch.

"But I didn't!" James whined. "I swear I didn't! She's bountiful in looks, bountiful in charms, bountiful in-"

"Blubber?"

"_No!"_ James shouted in response to the quietly spoken word. He surged to his feet and sent George a glare. The redheaded boy arched a brow at him and a small smirk crossed his lips, before he shook his head and turned back to his breakfast. James turned frantically to Lily.

"You know, Lily, you _know _I would never-"

"Calm down, Potter, I know," Lily said with her own smirk. James sighed in relief and slowly took his seat again. He'd just picked up his toast when he realized something.

"You didn't answer me," he said to Lily. The girl's smirk widened.

"No, I didn't, did I?"

James felt a very large smile spread across his face as the post began to arrive. Well this was an unexpected turn of events. Maybe this year, he was finally going to get what he'd wanted since he was eleven. Maybe this year-

An extremely loud scream sounded from the other end of the Gryffindor table. James, along with everyone else, looked over to see about ten raggedy owls circling Margo, none of them carrying parcels, but all of them…

"Merlin! Are they… excreting on her?" Lily asked, horror, disapproval and delight all swimming in her tone.

"I think they are!" Sirius shouted joyfully. "They're shitting all over her! That's brilliant! Bloody brilliant!"

"I agree," George said quietly, the Hall erupted with laughter as the seventh-year girl continued to scream and jumped to her feet, running for the doors. "I agree completely."

James's eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of something that look rather like a wand being drawn back into the wizard's sleeve. His jaw dropped and he glanced over as the last of the stalking owls followed Margo out of the Hall.

They looked nothing like school owls.

"You didn't!" he accused with glee as he turned back to his dorm-mate. George blinked innocently.

"Didn't what?" he asked, bowing over his breakfast and not looking up for the rest of the meal.

* * *

**A/N - A HUGE thank you to the guest reviewer StarStruck, who reviewed chapter eleven TWICE! Don't worry hun, this story is definitely continuing. I'm enjoying writing it too much to stop now! And thank you to every one else as well. Your thoughtful words and comments really do make my day! :D**


	13. Not the life wanted

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: Who does HP belong to? ROWLING! Who doesn't he belong to? ME!

**Chapter Thirteen – Not the life wanted**

"_Didn't what?" he asked, bowing over his breakfast and not looking up for the rest of the meal._

* * *

_See? Told you it was a fantastic idea!_

George snorted silently as his brother crowed in his head. He kept his head down and his smirk firmly to himself as he ate, the Hall continuing to laugh as James animatedly explained to the others what George had done. Or what he'd thought he'd done. The redhead frowned to himself at that thought. The fact that he'd been caught just proved how rusty he was. Two months ago, the Marauder wouldn't have had a chance in Azkaban of catching him.

Before his twin's death, he and Fred had been just too good, and that wasn't him boasting either. At that point, the only way people would have known who had pulled the prank or caused the ruckus, was when the Weasley twins had officially claimed responsibility. Which of course, they'd done all the time, basking in the glory of pulling one over the general populace. Unless it was their Mum who'd they tricked – then they'd just run like hell.

He swallowed against the pain the happy memories invoked in him, quietly putting his fork down. He didn't want to think of what he used to be. What he didn't think he'd ever be again. He regretted casting the spell now. To prank and cause mischief without his twin beside him just felt wrong. Or at least it should have.

As he pushed his still half-full plate away, he could sense four sets of Marauder eyes on him. The reaction of the group to his act of retribution had been mixed. Hermione and Harry's Mum had frowned at him in disapproval, but even they weren't able to completely hide their amusement. The other two girls – he didn't know their names, but figured he'd learn them eventually – had laughed and praised him. And his dorm-mates… well, all four were staring. Two of the gazes were considering and extremely pleased, one he ignored completely as if the person just didn't exist, and the other…

_And the other, Georgie? Just what is Professor Hotstuff thinking as he stares at you, hmmm?_

George's brows drew together, annoyance mixed in with a touch of amusement. _Didn't think you swung that way, Gred._

_I don't, brother mine, but you certainly do. I'm just repeating what you're thinking._

The wizard snorted again. _Yes, well, they're my thoughts. They're meant to be private, so I'd appreciate it if you stayed out of them._

_Oh, you'd 'appreciate it', would you? Snooty much, Georgie? Maybe I will go._

"What? No!" George spat aloud as panic shot through him, his head snapping up. No, no, no! He couldn't leave! He couldn't leave him alone! There was nothing worse than being alone! His jaw snapped shut and his head sunk as, once again, he felt eyes on him. Quite a few more than last time, many of them slightly concerned and probably a tad weirded out.

"George?" Hermione asked softly as she reached for his hand. He just shook his head and pulled back.

_I was only teasing, Forge. I'm really not going anywhere._

"I'm going to class," he said as he abruptly got to his feet. He strode away from the table and quickly made his way out into the halls, needing to be by himself. Well, with his brother by himself anyway.

"Wait, George!"

He reluctantly stopped and turned, his stomach twisting when the subject of his and Fred's conversation ran to catch up with him. He didn't want to talk to Remus. The werewolf confused him. The heat in his veins when he saw the boy smile confused him.

The guilt he felt for his life continuing when his twins hadn't, confused the living hell out of him.

"I've got class," he said as Remus stopped in front of him.

"I know, I do too. The same one in fact. I thought, ah, I thought we could go together."

George scowled into those hopeful, bright eyes. Bugger it. Now what was he going to do?

_Walk with him, mate. It won't kill you._

Fortunately, he was saved from having to answer, both aloud and mentally, by Remus's fellow Marauders. Sirius and James strolled through the mass of students and up behind the werewolf, Hermione, Lily and the other two right behind them.

"I can't believe you did that!" Sirius said with a large grin. "That was truly inspired, mate! Subtle, but still getting the point across! If Prongs hadn't seen you, we wouldn't have even realized it was intentional!"

"You weren't supposed to realize it was intentional," George muttered to himself.

_So be quicker next time, then._

George scowled again. He didn't intend for there to be a next time. He hadn't even intended for there to be a _this_ time. But it seems that his instincts and his wand were connected and he'd found himself planning and performing the charm before he knew it.

He didn't even know why he'd done it. It wasn't like Hermione was _really_ his sister. She wasn't Ginny. She was just a kind girl who his younger brother was head-over-heels for, and who just happened to be one of the saviours of the wizarding world. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, which she'd proven time and time again.

But it had to be because of her, because he certainly wouldn't have done it for his own sake. George was more then used to people talking about him, and he didn't care one way or the other if they did. In fact, both he and Fred had encouraged it during their time at school. The best way to promote their shop and products was for the owners to be as well-known as possible.

All he knew is that when the girl had pointed out that nasty little chit, he'd reacted exactly the same way he would have if someone had gone after Ginny.

And he wasn't happy about it.

"Yeah, that was great! Wish I'd thought of it!" James added.

"Of course you do, Potter, it's just the type of juvenile thing you would think of," a voice sneered. George turned with the rest to meet a pair of dark, almost black, frigidly cold eyes. Wearing Slytherin robes, the boy was tall and slender, with shoulder-length black hair and smooth, pale skin. His nose was slightly large, but that didn't take away from his surprisingly decent looks. George thought he might have been quite attractive – in an icy, perfect sort of way – if it didn't look like his mouth was permanently twisted in a bitter jeer.

And if he washed the barrel load of grease out of his hair.

_Snape,_ Fred said and George blinked in shock.

"Snivellus," Sirius cooed as he took a step forward. "Hello there, old chum! Come to look upon your betters, have you?"

The hawk-like boy sneered again. "If that were true, I wouldn't be talking to you, Black, now would I?"

"But you must want to acknowledge the people above you, Snivelly," James said cheerfully, stepping up beside his mate. "You're the one that spoke to us first, after all."

The boy scowled and was about to retort, when two others joined him. Both were wearing Slytherin robes. They looked familiar and George frowned a little in confusion as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione go very still.

"These cretins bothering you, Severus?" the blonde asked. He was short and broad, muscly and ape-like.

"No, Evan, they're not," Snape said through his teeth. "I've got it handled."

"Course you do, Sev," the other boy said. He was tall, taller than both George and Snape, and built like a whip. His hair was a long waterfall of black that fell down his back. He smirked and reached up to flick it over his shoulder, in a move that George recognized as both deliberate and practised.

"We just thought we'd join the fun."

"I'm sure you did, Theo, but as I said, I've got it handled!

_Merlin, that's Rosier and Mulciber,_ Fred whispered. George's brows shot up.

"Death Eaters?" he murmured.

"Yes," he heard Hermione breathe behind him, her voice shaking a little. He instinctively took a small step back and reached out his hand, slipping it into the witch's.

_Avery's probably around somewhere as well,_ Fred muttered. _Didn't Padfoot say that he was never too far from Mulciber? Peas in pod, those two._

"Aww, look at little Sevvy, needing his protectors to back him up," Sirius chirped. The teenage Snape glared at him.

"Look who's talking, Black!" he snapped. "You can't go anywhere without your little entourage!"

"And what an entourage it is," Rosier said with a cruel smile. "Mudbloods and Blood Traitors, abound."

"Just the right sort to meet with an _accident_, don't you think, Sev?" Mulciber drawled as most of the Gryffindors stiffened in anger. Hermione's grip on George's hand tightened.

"Is that a _threat,_ Mulciber?" Sirius growled, taking another step closer to the Slytherins. The tall boy's brows arched up in cool amusement.

"I would say so, yes," he said simply, an arrogant smile spreading across his face. Sirius growled again and his wand was in his hand within a second.

"No! Stop, guys, don't!" Lily cried as James's wand quickly joined Sirius's. Remus didn't draw his wand, but he did walk up to stand next to his friends, his eyes hard.

"They threatened us, Lily!" James spat.

"And you're Head Boy, James! You can't go duelling in the halls! Please, don't do this!"

"Yes, _James,_ listen to your little Mudblood girlfriend," Mulciber smirked. "Or stop being a child and face me like a man."

His smile grew. "Like your father did."

James roared and threw himself towards the Slytherin, Sirius not far behind. Lily shouted as Remus sprang after his friends, trying to stop them. The rat squeaked and took several rapid steps backwards, while Mulciber hissed _"Protego Duo,"_ and a shield appeared in front of him, repelling James. He laughed as the Head Boy hit the floor.

Both Hermione and George reacted without thinking, their fairly well-honed battle instincts kicking in. George raised his wand and ropes shot out of the end, wrapping themselves firmly around Mulciber. He quickly turned and pointed it at Rosier when the ape went to lunge at him. Hermione shot a variation of the Freezing Charm at James, making it impossible for him to move his legs and pull himself up. She ran over and grabbed his wand.

"What are you doing?! Give that back!" James shouted. Hermione folded her lips and shook her head, tucking his wand up her sleeve.

"Lily's right, James, you can't do this! Think about it! He's deliberately provoking you!"

"He still deserves to get the shite beat out of him!" Sirius snapped as he struggled with Remus, who was sitting on his chest.

"No! He does not! Not when you started it, Sirius!" Hermione shot back. "You bullied Severus first!"

"_Bullied?_ What the hell are you on about, woman?!" Sirius snarled.

"Yes, bullied! You did exactly the same thing to him as what Margo did to me!"

"No, we didn't!" James yelled.

"You did, Potter," Lily said curtly. "I expected better from you – from both of you," she said with an angry glance at Snape, who had his hand around Rosier's arm and was trying to tug him back. George noticed that the boy's eyes flickered briefly at her words, before cooling into an emotionless stare. Mulciber was still lying trussed up on the floor, while Hermione had her wand on Rosier as well.

George transferred his wand to the Slytherin and bent over him. "A _real _man doesn't taunt to invoke a reaction, and then hide behind a shield like a coward, when he gets the one he was after," he said softly.

"Oh?" Mulciber questioned, still calm as the Black Lake and pumping scorn, despite being hogtied. "Boy, you have no idea what a real man even is."

"I do, actually," George said without thinking. "See, I know and have had real men, and you? You're not even close."

"You've… had?" the Slytherin repeated slowly in confusion, before a disgusted expression entered his eyes. "Salazar save me, you're a bloody faggot!"

The Gryffindor's gasped. George's eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted angrily as he mentally called himself all kinds of names. Why had he gotten involved? Why had he opened his mouth? He got to his feet, grasping the ropes and pulling the other boy up with him, his wand poking directly into the stomach of the insulting wizard who'd used such a degrading, horrible word.

_It'll confuse him if you agree with him, Georgie. Plus, what better way to let Professor Hotstuff know you play for the same team?_

George blinked a couple of times and then shook his head mutely. He agreed with his twin on the first part. He wasn't ashamed of who he was, had never been. True, he'd never openly shouted it from the rooftops, but he hadn't hidden it either. His family and friends knew he liked men and they accepted, supported and didn't judge him for it. That was all that mattered.

"While that would be the very last word I, or anyone decent really, would use to describe myself, I won't deny it," he said. The disgusted expression in the Slytherin's eyes grew – almost if it was exaggerated. George cocked his head and pursed his lips, seeing something in the depths of Mulciber's eyes that contradicted his expression.

"Maybe you know a bit more about it then you're letting on," he murmured. The tied up wizard snarled loudly, his calm shattered.

"Get your hands off me, you filthy, revolting fairy! I won't be tainted by your presence a moment longer!"

"Merlin, you really are a stereotypical Slytherin, aren't you?" George muttered. He sighed and flicked his wand, making the ropes disappear. Mulciber blinked in surprise before quickly raising his own wand, his mouth open to spit out a curse.

He stopped suddenly when George, Hermione, Lily, the other two girls and Remus all pointed their wands directly at him. James growled from the floor while Sirius began to again struggle against Remus furiously. Rosier growled and Snape drew his wand reluctantly.

"Six against three, mate. Well, seven if Sirius manages to get free," George said. "Not the best odds for you, yeah? Might be best to bow out of this one."

"While it pains me to agree with a _Gryffindor_," Snape spat. "We're attracting a bit too much attention. A Professor is bound to be along soon."

"It seems a Professor is already here, Mr Snape," Professor Sprout said as she pushed through the frantically whispering crowd that had collected around the two groups during their scuffle. Immediately, all wands went down – bar one.

"Greenhouse Number Three does need a good cleaning, Mr Mulciber," the Professor said as the longhaired boy continued to point his wand at George, his icy blue eyes furious and a little panicked. "You're actions are just leading me to believe that you'd enjoy the task."

Mulciber glared at the redhead for a few more seconds before he slowly lowered his wand.

"I'm sure I would, Professor, but I've class at the moment and studying to do later," he said, his rationality and composure firmly back in place.

"Well then, best be off," Sprout said calmly. "Wouldn't want to be late now, would we?" She turned to the crowd. "That goes for you lot as well. I know that some of you are due in my class in just a few minutes. Mr Mulciber isn't the only one who's capable of cleaning a greenhouse."

Much as they had done the night before, the crowd grumbled at being prevented from watching the show, and slowly dispersed. Professor Sprout turned back to the two fuming groups.

"You've all got classes as well, and-"

"I don't, Professor," James said angrily from the floor. "And I'd be on my way if _someone_ would just let me UP!"

A brief look of guilt flashed across Hermione's face and she pointed her wand at the Head Boy, who slumped in relief as his legs suddenly became useable again. The girl with short hair reached out a hand and pulled him to his feet as Remus slowly got off Sirius's chest. The Black wizard was on his feet in an instant as well, his narrow-eyed glare firmly focused on the three Slytherins.

"My wand?" James growled. Hermione handed it to him silently, apology stamped across her features. James ignored it and turned to the others.

"Right, off with you then, and don't let me catch you looking to start something again," Sprout said. The Slytherins sneered one last time before turning and walking away, Mulciber staring at George hatefully as he did so.

"Yes, run little snakes!" Sirius called after them. "Better watch out, your breaking and entering may just land you in a whole load of trouble!"

Rosier threw a very rude hand gesture back over his shoulder at him.

"Them? You think?" Remus asked quietly. Sirius nodded.

"It makes sense."

"Enough taunting and cryptic chatter, Mr Black. Off to class if you please," the Professor said. "You've already got a month with your Head of House; you don't want to add to that."

"Course not, Professor," Sirius said. "We'll just be going then."

"You do that. Oh, and Heads?" she said, looking at Lily and James. "I really did expect better of you two. Nearly duelling in the halls isn't the sort of example you want to be setting."

"I agree, Professor, it's not," Lily said quietly with a hard look at James. He shrugged his shoulder in annoyance and pushed past her, his mates, the Professor and the girls following. George sighed and shook his head, turning to head in the another direction.

"George? You're not going to class?" Hermione called softly after him. He stopped and turned to her, deliberately not looking at the curious werewolf who seemed to be waiting for him as well.

"No," he said shortly. "I-I need some air."

He was thoroughly pissed with himself as he turned away again. He could also still sense Remus's eyes on him and that didn't help his mood. Not only had he outed himself to a large portion of the school, he'd gotten involved with something he shouldn't have.

George didn't want to get involved, and not only because Hermione said they shouldn't – though he noticed that she'd been pretty quick to involve herself as well. He didn't want to make friends, didn't want to think of Hermione as family and act accordingly, didn't want to fancy the younger version of his favourite teacher. He didn't want to do anything.

If he couldn't have Fred, there really was only one thing he was willing to do.

Kill the rat and then continue a mundane life as best he could.


	14. Unexpected

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: *pouts spectacularly* I want it, I want it, I want it! Give it to me! *throws massive tantrum when J K shouts NO!*

**Chapter Fourteen – Unexpected**

_If he couldn't have Fred, there really was only one thing he was willing to do. Kill the rat and then continue a mundane life as best he could._

* * *

Through a series of hidden and secret passageways – ones that obviously the students of this time hadn't discovered, as many of them were extremely dusty – George made it back past the Great Hall and out through the Entrance Hall in no time. He got to the doors and quickly pushed them open, hurrying out. He had no idea where he was going – all he knew was that he really needed to get there.

He started to run the moment he hit the front lawns.

Thankfully, classes had already begun, so he only came across a few stray students, most of who were in a hurry as well. Not that he cared if he was spotted or caught. His mind was blank as he pumped his legs, running for all he was worth. He didn't take notice of any of his surroundings, he just escaped. It wasn't until he reached his destination that he realized that that had been his destination in the first place.

He stood panting in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch, his eyes on the goal posts standing high above the ground. Memories zoomed through his mind as he stared at those massive round circles. Days of coming in exhausted from hours of practise, moaning with Harry and Fred about their Captain, catching said Captain trying to drown himself in the showers, the screams of Gryffindor fans as the cheered him and the rest of the team on. Slowly, those happy and not-so-happy memories, of easier days when live wasn't so hard, so _bloody_ complicated, calmed him to the point that he could think again. He took a shaky breath, now able to see past his anger and sorrow.

What he saw didn't make him any happier. He closed his eyes briefly and turned away from the posts, heading over to the stands.

Quidditch had been a big part of his and Fred's Hogwarts life. Though it hadn't meant nearly as much to them as it had to Wood – and to Harry to a smaller degree – it had been something to look forward to besides dreaming up and creating their products. They'd been good at it too. Once again, not as much as Harry, but that hadn't mattered. Quidditch hadn't been either of their dreams. That had always only ever been their shop.

He took a seat in the Gryffindor section and stared down at his hands as he rested them on his knees, allowing himself to brood. Well, their shop wasn't going to go anywhere now. Even if he and Hermione did manage to get back, George couldn't imagine himself stepping into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes anytime soon, if at ever. His room at the Burrow was hard enough; the shop would be just too much. To see the place where they'd put all their hopes and dreams… it would probably cripple him.

"Bit late for that, don't you think, Georgie?"

George's head shot up and he turned to his right to see his twin sitting beside him, copying his posture. Fred was dressed the same as the last time George had seen him, those fantastically awful magenta robes blowing in the breeze. He was staring out at the Pitch, ignoring George as his brother drank in the sight of him greedily.

"Gred," George said in a hoarse voice.

"That's my name," his brother answered. George chuckled weakly.

"Well, nearly," he said.

Fred turned and grinned at him. "Yeah, close enough."

His twin swallowed and shook his head. "Ah, bit late for what?"

"You thinking it'd cripple you to walk into the shop. It's a bit late to say that."

George frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're already acting crippled anyway, Forge. Entering the shop isn't going to make you feel any worse than you do now."

His frown deepened. He was acting crippled? He didn't think he was. He was just trying to get through the days as best he could.

"Yes, and giving the impression that you'd rather not be getting through in the process."

"Rather not be…" George's eyes widened in shock as a jolt ran through him. "What? No! I'd never!"

"Wouldn't you?" Fred asked quietly. "Wasn't that the reason the family wouldn't leave you alone even for a second within the first two weeks of my death?" He stared at George steadily. "Did Ginny not find you standing on the edge of the roof?"

George's fists clenched and he quickly looked away from the intense blue gaze of his twin. Yes, she had. To this day, he still didn't know what had been going through his mind at the time. All he could comprehend was the immense emptiness inside him – that horrid, aching hole. He'd just wanted the pain to go away. To disappear.

It had been his little sisters begging that had brought him back. Ginny had always been special to him, more so than any of his other siblings apart from Fred. They were alike in many ways, and both he and Fred adored her. His mum loved to tell the story of how the twins used to cart Ginny around when she was a baby, almost as if they were her parents instead of just her brothers. And they'd taken pride in teaching her everything they could about pranking and the mysteries of Hogwarts. They'd even managed to send her a toilet seat without their mum finding out. So, when George had found himself standing with his toes hanging over the edge of the Burrow roof, with his magical little sister pleading with him not to leave behind him, it had been like a physical blow.

He'd stepped back very quickly and Ginny had wrapped him up in her arms. He'd vowed right then not to get so lost again, though recent events meant he hadn't actually kept it. Hurting his baby sister was unthinkable and he leaving on top of Fred would have destroyed her, not to mention the rest of the family. Neither sibling had ever mentioned it again, to each other or any of their other family members. Ginny may have told Harry, he didn't know, but he was thankful his parents had never found out, especially his mum.

"That was a long time ago, and it's not going to happen again," he muttered.

"But see the thing is George, you're not acting like it."

When George just scowled, Fred huffed in frustration and ran his hand through his hair.

"Come on, Forge, you're a Weasley twin for Godric's sake! You're pouting over having a little interaction with all these interesting people! Your life is moving and you're acting like the world ended!"

"It did," George whispered.

"Merlin's saggy bollocks, George!" Fred snapped, making his twins head shoot up once more. "I'm the one that died, not you!"

"I know that!" George hissed back, absently wondering how he'd ended up in an argument with a figment of his imagination. "Believe me, that's one thing I'm _very_ much aware of!"

"So why then are you acting like you're the one who kicked the bloody bucket?!"

"Because there's no point!" George shouted. "Not without you beside me!"

"And we're back to that, are we?" Fred scorned.

"No! I said it before; I'm not going to do that! I would never hurt Ginny that way again!"

"You'd never hurt her that way again?" Fred repeated, words swimming with disbelief. "You're doing that now! You don't have to have physically carked it to act like you have, Georgie!"

"GINNY ISN'T HERE!" George roared.

"No, but 'Mione is! And so is Remus and the other Marauders, and you're just wasting it! All the knowledge and experience at your fingertips, and you're pushing everyone away!"

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT THEM! I JUST WANT YOU!"

"WELL, YOU CAN'T! I'M DEAD!"

Fred's sentence echoed around the empty Quidditch Pitch as George stared at his twin in stupefied, frustrated silence. His brother was fuming. His neck, face and ears were flushed red and his fists were balled as he glared at the other redhead. George blinked and then stood up abruptly, turning and walking quickly down the stands. He stopped only because he was jerked to a halt and spun around. Fred was still glaring.

"Sit!" he ordered. George snarled wordlessly and looked away. "Now, brother!"

Grumbling, George sank back down onto the bench, Fred taking a seat as well. Both wizards stared out at the Pitch, silent for quite a while. Fred was first to break it.

"You're going to have to accept my death, Georgie."

"I know," George whispered after a long moment, his eyes once again finding those large circles. "I just… I don't _want_ to."

Beside him, Fred sighed. "I know the feeling. I'm sorry Forge, but you don't really have a choice."

They sat and continued to watch the empty Pitch for a bit before George turned and smiled faintly.

"Don't you just love new experiences?"

"Hmm?" Fred said as he turned as well.

"New experiences. I mean, it's not every day you get yelled out by your own conscience."

"Conscience?" Fred snorted. "I'm not your conscience, Georgie. Far from it."

"True," George agreed, making Fred laugh. "But still, my brain yelled at me. That's definitely not the norm."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I'm thinking your brain yells at you all the time." He grinned. "Just not out loud."

George shook his head again. "So what made you decide to suddenly share your opinions with me?"

"No mine, Forge; yours." Fred sent him a half-smile. "I'm just a mental blip, remember. You must have been thinking of it on some level for me to spout all that out like that. Though, I do find myself agreeing."

"You do?" George asked.

"Ah huh," Fred answered with a nod. "I mean, look at where you are!"

George blinked and looked around. "The Quidditch Pitch?"

"No, you prat!" Fred laughed. "The school! You're at Hogwarts the same time as the Marauders! And you're not even taking advantage of it!"

George grimaced. "I don't know if I can."

"Why the bloody hell not?" Fred demanded.

"Because pranking without you feels wrong."

His brother placed his hand over his heart. "Aww, as touching as that is, Georgie, it's also really easy to solve."

"What? Don't prank?" George asked with a frown.

Fred shook his head. "No, just do it in a different way."

George arched a brow. "I wasn't aware there was a different way to do it."

"Course there is," Fred said cheerfully. "Do it your _own_ way. Establish your own identity."

"I have my own identity," George protested. He frowned in confusion when his twin shook his head again.

"No, you don't. Well, not really anyway. You're George Weasley, sure – or George Brown at the moment – but you're also And George."

"And George?" the other wizard parroted, his confusion spreading.

"Yup. And George. As in, Fred And George, minus the Fred."

He grinned when George blinked a couple of times and then reached up to rub his temple.

"Umm, what?"

"Well, that's what they call us, right? Fred and George. We've always been a package deal, and at the moment, without me you're And George. Just like if you'd died, I would have been Fred And."

"Fred And," George deadpanned. Fred nodded eagerly.

"Yeah. We've done everything together, which is of course, completely understandable, as I'm an awesome companion and you know it, but-"

"Ah, the Weasley Twin ego in full force," George interrupted dryly. Fred smirked.

"Of course. Don't try and pretend you haven't got it too. But moving on, everyone sees us as a pair, and with me now gone, you have a chance to break away from that mould and create your own identity. Prank, make people laugh, flirt, do all what we used to, but do it _your _way."

He reached out and squeezed George's shoulder. "I can't be here to finish your every sentence anymore, George. It's now time for you to live your own life. Drop the And and just be George. Do it for both of us, and do it well."

George stared at him mutely for a full minute. "Sweet Merlin, Gred, when did you get to be so bloody intelligent?"

Fred's laughter pinged off the stands above them and made George grin along with him. "I've always been this intelligent, Georgie. You're the one that's talking to yourself; you must be finally catching up!"

He laughed again when George groaned.

"So, you going to do it?"

"I-I don't know," George murmured as he looked down and began picking at his robes. "I'm not sure if I know how."

"Well, I'm sure Remus would be more than happy to help you," Fred said slyly. His brother sent him a glare as he felt his ear go red.

"Shut it you. Nothing's going to happen there."

"And why not?" Fred questioned, frowning. "He knows now that you share, ah, common interests, so what's stopping you?"

George rolled his eyes. "Aside from the fact that I'm from the future and he actually _teaches_ me in about twenty years time?"

"Aside from that," Fred grinned. George sucked on his bottom lip and scowled.

"Fred, Remus isn't gay."

His brother snorted. "Well, if he isn't, he's sure doing a really good impression of it. It's kind of gross, the way he looks at you. How can you be sure anyway? You haven't even spoken to him."

"Two words: Tonks and Teddy."

Fred frowned, opened his mouth and closed it again. He looked stumped. "That's three words actually, but you may have me there."

George nodded. "See? So nothing's going to happen."

"He could swing both ways, you know," his brother pointed out.

"Doesn't matter if he does," George argued with a shake of his head. "I have no clue how long we'll be here. Starting something would be foolish."

"Ahhh, but Georgie, we live to be foolish."

He held up his hands when George sent him an irritated look.

"Okay, okay, I won't push. Not with that anyway. You could at least offer him friendship though, couldn't you? Him and James and Sirius? Bond with them, learn for them, and teach _them._" He grinned again. "You know you can out prank them, Forge. Any day, any time. Wouldn't it be fun to _prove_ that?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it would," George murmured thoughtfully.

"So go do it then, you great git!"

"I'm not a git, you are."

"No, you are."

"No, _you_ are."

"You are."

"You are- Dear Merlin, I'm arguing with myself," George muttered.

"Better then screaming at yourself," Fred said in a perky tone. George chuckled and got up again.

"Hey, George?"

"Yeah?" he answered, turning back around.

"Please promise me you'll at least try."

George swallowed as Fred held his gaze. "I-I promise."

"Good, good. Now go. 'Mione and your wolf will be anxious, I'm sure."

"What? He's not mine!" George growled.

"Yes, and that's why you eat whatever he puts in front of you."

"Shut it, you bloody annoying prat!" the redhead snarled as he flushed for the second time. Fred laughed and sent him a knowing look.

"Love you too, Forge!" he sing-songed. George groaned and dropped his head in exaggerated despair.

When he lifted it again, his brother was gone.

~0~

He did try. He really did. But it was so bloody hard! He wasn't getting much sleep as he was still plagued by nightmares, which didn't put him a very good mood anyway. But even when he was in a better one, the Marauders didn't seem to want to cooperate.

The foursome was acting even crazier than usual. Or at least that's what he overheard Lily Evans saying to 'Mione, Alice and Eloise – see, he was trying, he'd learnt their names!

_Great achievement there, Georgie._

He ignored Fred and over the next few days, continued to watch as his dorm-mates formed whispering group after whispering group, glared and stared suspiciously at everyone, including their fellow Gryffindor's, and turned up in random places in the castle for no apparent reason. They also seemed to be shadowing every Slytherin they saw. The last bit was probably a little more normal, but George couldn't be sure.

The only time he really got to talk to them was in his dorm at night, and even then they were distracted. Remus was the only one who paid him any attention.

No matter how busy he was, the werewolf always found time to smile and speak to George. He was also always watching him, and the redhead would often find random bits of food lying around, obviously left there for a certain person. His stomach would flutter every time he came across a treacle tart or a chicken leg on a napkin, which he found he both liked and hated.

The hating it part didn't stop him from eating the offerings though. He told himself he was only doing it so the food didn't go to waste – but the way his heart sped up when Remus grinned at the disappearing food, contradicted that every time.

Hermione and he did finally manage to make it into Hogsmeade, so they now had normal clothing to wear. Which Dumbledore had insisting on paying for, much too both time travellers chagrin. He'd just smiled at them when they'd protested and said that he was sure he'd get his money back someday. Hermione had huffed at that, but George hadn't minded. It was exactly what he'd thought the old Headmaster would say.

He did have a bit of a bad moment when they'd walked past Zonko's Joke Shop – which had only gotten worse when Hermione had gently suggested that they go in. George had frantically shaken his head in answer, spun around, and had literally run in the opposite direction.

He'd snorted to himself when he'd thought of it later. Nope, he wouldn't be going to WWW anytime soon. Not if he couldn't even handle entering a joke shop his twin and he had only _thought _of buying.

It was towards the end of their second week in the past that George began to notice Remus acting odd. Well, not odd. More… lethargic and snappish. He didn't want to get out of bed in the morning, didn't want to talk to anyone, and for once, his mates weren't pushing him. They seemed to be treating him rather carefully actually, which George felt was necessary, considering how slowly he was moving.

It was Hermione who eventually pointed out the obvious reason.

"The full moon's tonight, George, and he's a werewolf," she muttered when he found her researching in the Library. "What did you expect?"

"Oh," George murmured, sympathy and a little unwanted sorrow running through him.

"Yes, oh," Hermione agreed, looking up from her book (Turning Around: How To Survive Being Stuck Where You Shouldn't Be), "why are you interested anyway?" Her smile suddenly turned sly, reminding George forcibly of his twin. "Didn't realize you were that… _close_ to him."

"I'm not!" George insisted, flushing. Merlin, he hated having such fair skin! "And you can't talk! Sirius is panting after you like a… ah…"

"A dog?" Hermione suggested with a smirk. "Yeah, he is, but nothing I say changes that. I'm not encouraging him."

"I know you're not," George said with a snort as he sunk into a chair. "Or at least you're not trying to. It's just weird, you know?"

"I know," Hermione sighed, putting the book aside. "Everything about being here is weird. I see Harry every time Lily looks at me, and James… it's spooky how much they look alike. Then there's Alice."

"Alice?" George asked with a frown. Hermione nodded.

"Yeah. In a couple of years' time she'll be Alice Longbottom, and soon after that…"

"Long… Merlin, Alice is Neville's mum?" the redhead yelped.

"Yes!" Hermione hissed, frantically glancing around and then leaning forward. "And keep your voice down, would you?"

"Sorry," George muttered.

"Yes, well, hopefully we won't be here much longer," the witch said, a touch grumpy as she sat back and picked up her book again. George nodded slowly and yawned, pillowing his head on his arms.

"Have you been sleeping?" Hermione asked abruptly. George looked up to see her frowning at him.

"Err… yes?"

"Don't you lie to me, George Wea-Brown!" the female third of The Golden Trio hissed. "You're eating better now, thanks to a certain Professor, but you need to sleep!"

"I'm trying, okay?" George snapped back, making Hermione blink, startled. "It's kind of hard when my brain won't let me!"

"Oh. Nightmares?" Hermione asked softly after a moment. She sighed when George looked down and nodded. "Have you thought of Dreamless Sleep?"

"The potion?" George asked, looking up again.

"Yeah. Harry used it after the Third Task, and, well, I've used it occasionally-"

"You have?" George interrupted in a surprised tone. Hermione's mouth twisted in distaste.

"I didn't sleep very well for quite a while after Malfoy Manor," she said quietly. George's eyes widened and he sat back with his face set.

"Fucking war," he muttered. Hermione chuckled weakly.

"My sentiments exactly. But the point is, it works. You should go see Madame Pomfrey. I'm sure she'll be happy to help."

_I thoroughly second that idea, Forge. You do need to get some sleep._

George sighed. He was being ganged up on. He pushed back his chair and stood up, sending Hermione a weary wave when she rose to accompany him.

"I'm fine, I'll see you back in the common room," he said. The muggle-born witch watched him carefully for a moment and then slowly sat back down. George left the Library, hoping that the Matron would be able to help him. He was sure sleep deprivation was slowly driving him even more mental then he already was.

~0~

As it was getting close to curfew, the halls were pretty barren as George made his way to the Hospital Wing. Only a few older students still traipsed their way through them. Therefore, he was a little surprised when he came across a figure leaning against the wall in the corridor leading to the doors of the Wing.

The figure had his back to him, but the closer George got, the more certain he became of its identity. As he'd spent a large amount of time over the last two weeks, trying to stop himself imagining running his hand through that hair, he was pretty certain of who it was when he caught sight of the sandy tangle resting against the wall. Concerned at the way the concrete seemed to be holding him up, George had just opened his mouth to ask if he was okay, when the figure stiffened, pulled himself upright and turned around.

The redhead couldn't stop the gasp from escaping him when he met Remus's eyes. The younger boy looked _wild._ His skin was stretched tight along his cheekbones; his teeth were showing in an almost feral smile, and his eyes…

They were still sea green as always, but it was the yellow licking around the edges that made George take an instinctive step back. He realized very quickly that he really shouldn't have moved at all.

Remus growled.

It was nothing like a human growl, though it wasn't quite Lupine yet either. Whatever it was, it was an inhumanly deep rumble, sending a shiver down George's spine and making him freeze. He keep his gaze fixed firmly on Remus as the about-to-transform werewolf began stalking slowly towards him.

"Remus," he whispered, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Memories of Fenrir Greyback were rampaging their way through his head as Remus got closer, the death and destruction the insane werewolf had rained upon the Final Battle drawing him very close to panic. He knew Remus was nothing like Greyback – who had _enjoyed_ what he was, so much he'd attacked in human form – but he was having a hard time convincing his body of that. He was shaking by the time Remus stopped directly in front of him.

If it hadn't been the werewolf's 'time of the month', so to speak, George would have found himself enjoying the close proximity. It seems the younger boy didn't know the meaning of personal space, and it was all George could do not to run.

He licked his lips and opened his mouth to try to get through to the boy again, only to still when the werewolf's gaze shot down to the movement and then back up to capture George's gaze once more. The older wizard's eyes went round at what he read in them, and Remus let out a second growl, once again making George shiver – though this time for an entirely different reason.

_Merlin, Circe and Morgana, George! What are you doing?!_

Remus growled for a third time, and Fred faded into the background as George sucked in a sharp breath.

"Remus…?" he whispered again, highly confused.

The werewolf smirked in response and then did the very last thing George would've expected him to do.

He kissed him.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed the longer-than-usual chapter, and a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited so far! It's greatly appreciated! :D**


	15. Lupine involvement

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: All characters and canon situations belong to J K Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended… *yawns widely* Boring. You all know the drill.

**Chapter Fifteen – Lupine involvement**

_The werewolf smirked in response and then did the very last thing George would've expected him to do. He kissed him._

* * *

There were three main reasons why Remus hated being a werewolf. Well, there was actually a lot of main reasons, but these three stood out amongst the rest. They were all pretty much related, but they all had their own adverse effects on the seventh-year Prefect. And all of them contributed to the situation the wizard found himself in the night of the January Full Moon.

The first was the most obvious. How could he not hate the fact that a beast ripped its way through his skin once a month? It was horrendously painful and he was always terrified that he would end up hurting someone – one of his mates being the most likely.

The second was that, no matter how often he was told he only had to put up with it for a night a month, that statement was never true. Remus suffered the effects of being a werewolf for two weeks out of every four. It was only a slight ache in his bones at first, but that feeling grew quickly the closer the Night drew. By the time two weeks turned in one, the ache would have evolved into a constant blaze of pain – which didn't help his temper, as it got closer to the surface the more time went on as well.

As did his wolf.

Remus despised the week before the Full Moon. He snapped and snarled and growled at everyone, and not just because he was in a shitty mood, which he was most of the time. His reactions were more animalistic because _he_ was more animalistic. His wolf was constantly pushing at him, and though it never managed to take him over, it still made itself clearly known.

The last reason why he hated what he was, was because he could never remember what the wolf did when it finally managed to tear itself free. The closer it got to the time of transformation, the harder the wolf pushed and the hazier his mind and memory got. He still had tentative control for most of the day leading to the Moon, but that went out the window about an hour or so before the time came. He mainly focused on his plan within that hour, letting the wolf push everything else aside.

Getting to the Hospital Wing, following Madam Pomfrey as she escorted him to the Whomping Willow, and making it to the Shrieking Shack before the wolf came out.

Though he'd had a lot of practise at doing exactly that – seven years of it to be exact – it was still hard. The wolf snarled in his head, more than eager to get out, and this Moon wasn't any different. The beast was pushing Remus down bit by bit, making it hard for him to walk, let alone think.

The wizard was taking a quick breather against the wall, trying to stay himself for just a little while longer, when a scent came out of nowhere and slammed through his swiftly disintegrating control like a wrecking ball.

It was ambrosia. Honey and magnolia and roast beef and hot blood and heady musk and sweet, sweet chocolate. It was want and home and more and completion and, and…

_His._

_Mine._

The wolf snarled long and loud in his head and Remus found himself shoved roughly to the side as the creature inside him took over – _while he was still human. _All he could do was watch in horror as the beast stiffened, straightened up from the wall and turned him around. Remus recognised George as soon as he saw him, and fearing for the redhead's life, began to fight with everything he had left in him.

The wolf ignored him and watched as George took a step back as his eyes widened – which the wolf really didn't like. _He _wasn't going to run. _He _wasn't allowed to run. The wolf let out a growl to tell him exactly that, feeling pleased when George froze at the sound. More of that delicious scent flowed over them and the wolf began to stalk towards its prey.

Remus heard the other wizard whisper his name, just as he recognized the fear in those blue, blue eyes. The wolf sensed it as well, but it didn't stop him. He got closer and closer, still ignoring the owner of the body he was controlling. George watched him the entire time, until Remus's chest was brushing his. Remus desperately pulled and tugged at the wolf, but the beast didn't budge. He just drew in that wondrous scent and luxuriated in it.

_Mine._

The wolf was in the process of basking in the scent, his eyes half closed, when George licked his lips, probably out of nervousness. Though Remus's entire focus was on trying to prevent what he thought would turn into a bloodbath, he couldn't help noticing the movement. The wolf couldn't help noticing Remus notice it, which allowed Remus to assert himself a little more.

Which he realized very quickly wasn't the best thing to do, as he found himself being bombarded and overwhelmed by the wolf's instincts. The ownership the wolf felt, combined with the strong attraction Remus himself felt for the older wizard, detonated through them both and made them one.

They growled in satisfaction and looked up into George's eyes – where they no longer found fear.

Liking this just as much as the fear, if not more, they were about to assert control when another _presence _invaded their senses. It wasn't a violent or unfriendly presence, but it was foreign and shouldn't have been there. They growled to warn it away, George shuddered and whispered Remus's name again, and the presence was gone. Satisfied that they could now have what was theirs, they used one hand to grab George by the hips and drag him impossibly closer, while the other went up to tug his head down.

The wolf rumbled and Remus sighed the instant George's mouth met theirs.

It was nothing like Remus had imagined his first kiss with the redhead would be. The wolf wouldn't allow it to be soft and gentle, and after a moment of surprise, neither did George. The other man threw himself into the kiss, one of his own hands going to Remus's hip, the other cupping his neck. Wolf/Remus growled as the wizard hungrily moved his mouth over theirs, angling his head and pressing with enough force to bruise. They rumbled in disapproval and reached for that fiery hair, deliberately tugging _hard_, their tongue darting out to scrape roughly over the taller man's bottom lip, as heat unlike anything Remus had ever felt before surged through their veins.

George gasped at both the pain and the command, and Wolf/Remus took full advantage, plunging their tongue into George's mouth and exploring thoroughly. George quickly recovered and met them stroke for stroke, moaning when Remus's tongue slid over his teeth.

Wolf/Remus snarled at the sound and pushed, the dazedly blinking wizard stumbling back until he hit the wall. Wolf/Remus then used the man's surprise to latch their mouth onto George's neck.

"A-ahh… _Merlin…_R-Re… _Bloody hell!_"

Wolf/Remus rumbled again, sucking briefly before dragging their tongue down the skin and licking at the hollow of his throat, where the pulse beat erratically and that scent exploded. They bit, catching the skin between their teeth, and George jerked, moaning again. Wolf/Remus rumbled with pleasure.

_Yes. Mine._

Wolf/Remus bit again; hard enough to leave a mark, before soothing with their tongue and zeroing back in on George's mouth. George sighed and cupped Remus's cheeks, and their mouths clashed together once more.

"I thank yeh Poppy, I really do. This will come in handy- Merlin's balls!"

Wolf/Remus tore their lips from George's and spun around, a vicious snarl ripping from their throat as the scent of big/wrong/danger crashed over them. Their vision tinged red as they crouched protectively in front of what was theirs. Behind them, they felt George stiffen.

"Mr Lupin! Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Err, Poppy, maybe yeh shouldn'…"

"No, Rubeus, I can handle this. You go on now."

"Yer sure?"

"I am. Go. That potion won't last long."

"Right then. I'll just… go."

The big/wrong/danger man slunk through the corridor, back to the opposite wall, the tiny eyes hidden behind bushy eyebrows never leaving the human wolf. He was gone quickly and Wolf/Remus turned to the other intruder.

Who didn't look the least bit cowed.

"Remus Lupin, you pull yourself together this instant. It isn't time yet. You know that."

The words slowly trickled through the red as the danger passed. Not time yet? Not time for what?

"Are you going to let him win?"

The wolf snarled and took a step forward as what the Matron was saying tugged Remus closer to the surface. Let him win? No! Never!

_Mine!_

"Remus. Don't."

A hand settled on his shoulder, that scent swirling around him. But instead of getting the wolf riled up again, the order did the opposite. The wolf retreated with a grumble and Remus was once again as much of himself as he could be.

He stiffened as what had just happened played back through his mind. His eyes widened in horror and, very slowly, he turned.

George was watching him carefully, his pupils still a little dilated. Remus swallowed, his eyes unerringly going to the small, deepening red mark just above George's collarbone.

_A mark made by his teeth!_

Remus sucked in a sharp breath and took a step backwards, disgust, shock and revulsion running through him. He'd bitten George! He'd bitten someone while he was human! Just like the monster that made him!

He took another step backwards and shook his head in frantic denial. George frowned.

"Remus…?"

"I'm sorry," Remus blurted. He turned and with his wolf protesting loudly, bolted away as quickly as he could.

~0~

He groaned as he woke the next morning. He was in the Hospital Wing, and though he couldn't remember a thing from the moment he'd changed, he did have a hazy memory of the events leading up to it.

He closed his eyes again and tried to suffocate himself with his pillow. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! How could he let that happen?! How could he let himself lose control like that?! He could have killed him!

_But you didn't. You furiously snogged him up against a wall instead._

Remus groaned again as his blood heated at the memory. How could he possibly ever look at George again? He'd made a fool of himself! He hadn't even given the man a choice!

"Moony! You're awake!"

Remus sighed, lifted his head from the pillow and turned to look at his mate, ignoring the way his body screamed at him as did. Apart from looking knackered, Sirius didn't look any worse for wear. He looked around for James and Peter, finding the Head Boy in a chair on the other side of the bed. He froze as saw the dried blood on his friend's face.

"Hell, I didn't…?"

"Nah, it's nothing mate, don't worry about it," James said, waving Remus's shock aside. "Poppy fixed it up right quick. Just haven't had time to get rid of the evidence yet."

Remus fell back on the pillow with another groan. "Peter?"

"Fit as a fiddle," Sirius said. James snorted.

"Peter, fit? Doubt it."

"But he's okay?" Remus interrupted anxiously. James rolled his eyes.

"As the bloody coward spent most of the night finding under a bush, he can't be anything _but_ okay."

"Wanker," Sirius muttered. The fond tone belayed the harsh word. He shook his head and leaned forward on the bed eagerly. "So, crazy night for you, Moony."

"Crazy? What do you mean?" Remus asked warily. They didn't know, did they?

"He means more like weird," James said. "You spend most of the night running in the direction of the castle, which is something you've never done before. Or at least not while we're around."

"I did?" Remus asked, surprised. He knew he hadn't made it to the Shack, but he had made it into the Forest. Usually when that happened he was content to stay there most of the time, the scents from the other creatures distracting him a little from the scent of human.

"Yip," Sirius answered. "We spent all night herding you back, which you didn't like."

"Hence this," James said, pointing at the blood on his head, "and the couple of new scars we had to give you."

"Yeah, sorry about that mate," Sirius said. "But you just weren't listening."

"It's okay," Remus sighed, knowing that the new wounds couldn't be too bad, otherwise his friends wouldn't have been so casual about it.

"So, any reason why you might've wanted to get to the castle?" Sirius asked. He was wearing a far too innocent grin. Remus groaned and covered his eyes with his hand.

"What do you know?" he asked.

"Nothing really, just what a young Gryffindor saw as he was heading to this very wing last night," James said airily. "Feeling a wee bit off, he was, and catching a Prefect trying to eat the face of the new bloke didn't help matters."

"I did not try to eat his face!" Remus snapped. He swore when Sirius laughed.

"Who said anything about you, Moony?" he asked, sharing a grin with James.

"Just go away," Remus muttered, turning away from them. He was tired and sore. Why couldn't they leave him in peace?

"Nope. Not until you tell us what made you man up and make the first move," Sirius said cheerfully. "Well done by the way. The kid said he'd never seen anything like it."

"Who said I made the first move?" Remus asked cautiously.

"You had George up against a wall, Moony. That says top to me."

Remus lifted his head and shot Sirius a glare, but the Black wizard just smirked at him. He settled back on the pillow with a heavy sigh. James frowned.

"Why don't you seem happy about it?"

Remus frowned as well and shook his head. He really didn't want to talk about it. But he knew that those two wouldn't leave him alone until he did. It was how they'd gotten him to tell them about his 'furry little problem' back in second year.

"It wasn't me, okay?" he muttered.

"What do you mean it wasn't you?" Sirius asked with a confused cock of his head. "Nate was very sure of whom he saw and you just confirmed it."

"Well, it was me, but it wasn't me."

"Still not making sense mate," James said.

"It was the wolf!" Remus snapped. James and Sirius started in surprise "I didn't have anything to do with it! He just took over and attacked him! He even bit him!"

"What?!" Sirius barked. "Bit him? As in _bit _bit?"

"No, but he left a mark!"

"Oh. So he… what?"

"You know what!" Remus growled. "Your little tattletale saw it, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did," James said quietly. "But what he saw was a kiss between two people who were both enjoying and participating. He didn't see an attack, Moony."

"But that's what it was, Prongs!" Remus groaned. "The wolf just took over and didn't give him a choice! Didn't give _me_ a choice!"

"But haven't you been wanting to kiss him since he got here?" James asked.

"That's beside the point!"

"It isn't, Moony," Sirius said. "Seems to me that your wolf acted on what his human counterpart was already feeling. And George didn't push you away, did he?"

"N-no…"

"Mutual snogging all round then."

Remus looked at his two friends and then reached up to rub his temple.

"I still don't know _why_ it happened," he moaned. "The wolf is always close to the surface in the week before the Moon, but he's never taken over like that before!"

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe he just really likes George. He did spend all night trying to get to the castle after all."

"But he's never been such an active presence before," Remus said. "Sure, he's there for those two weeks, and _really _there for that last week and the day of the Moon, but he's never been a separate entity before. He's never had a mind of his own unless he was out."

"Can you feel him now?" James asked. He looked intrigued when Remus shook his head.

"All I feel now is sore, which is what I always feel."

"So, something about the new bloke brings him out," Sirius mused.

"What did he say?"

"Who?" Remus asked in confusion. "George?"

James rolled his eyes. "No, though that would be interesting to know as well. The wolf, Moony. Did he say or think anything while the two of you were, ah, occupied?"

Remus couldn't stop the flush that turned his cheeks lollipop red. "Hecalledhimmine."

"What's that?" Sirius asked with a grin. Remus sighed.

"He called him mine. As in his. Something that belongs to him."

"Wow. Really?" James asked, looking intrigued again. "That's…"

"Embarassing? Humiliating?"

"Interesting," the Head Boy corrected. "Do werewolves Mate?"

"Everyone mates Prongsie," Sirius said with a smirk.

"No, I mean Mate. Take a Mate. Capital M."

They both looked at Remus.

"How would I know?" the boy asked, exasperated. "It's never come up!"

"Hmm. My Lily will know," James murmured.

"Prongs, you are not telling her about-"

"Course not," James said absently. "Can still ask a general question though."

"Means you'll have to talk to her again, mate," Sirius pointed out. "And Miss Brown too, probably."

Remus shook his head again. Neither James or Sirius had liked being accused of bullying by the two girls. Sirius had gotten over it fairly quickly – when it came to girls, he wasn't one to hold a grudge – but James was another matter. He hadn't spoken to Lily since and had constantly wandered round with a wounded look on his face when he was in the witch's presence.

"That's okay, I think I'll forgive her now," James said.

"Hermione too?" Remus asked. The be-speckled boy scowled.

"I don't think so," he said slowly. "She cursed me."

"She didn't _curse_ you; she just stopped you from probably getting hurt."

Both Remus and James turned to gape at Sirius, who shrugged his shoulder defensively.

"What?"

"Nothing," Remus said quickly before turning back to James. "She also probably stopped you from getting into serious trouble, Prongs. Attacking a student isn't an innocent prank, you know."

James's scowl deepened. "Whatever," he mumbled. "This isn't about me anyway; this is about you and your horny wolf!"

"Horny wizard too, I'll bet."

Remus flushed again. "Padfoot!"

"What?" Sirius repeated with another smirk. "Come on now, Moony, when's the last time you got any?"

"Never," James said with an identical smirk. "I'm sure George would be more than happy to pop that cherry."

"Shut it! You can't talk!" Remus hissed, surprisingly angry. He didn't like anyone talking about him and George in that context, not even his friends.

James rolled his eyes again. "Calm down mate, we're only kidding. And I can so talk, just haven't had reason to recently. I'm holding out for my Lily and I'm not ashamed to admit it. The more anticipation, the better, I reckon."

"Ahh, but there is something to be said about instant gratification," Sirius drawled with a lazy quirk of his brow.

"You'll be waiting a while for that if you're waiting for Hermione," Remus said dryly. Sirius sent him a cocky grin.

"We'll see."

"As illuminating as this conversation is, Mr Lupin needs his rest."

All three boys turned at the sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice. Remus cringed back against the pillow in embarrassment as the Matron smiled in amusement.

"Learn a little something, did you, Poppy?" Sirius asked, all innocence. Remus shared a grimace with James, anticipating the explosion.

The Mediwitch surprised him.

"Learn something? I already know more than you ever could, Sirius Black. Now off with you and let my patient sleep."

Remus's jaw dropped as James burst into laughter. Sirius blinked in shock and then looked at the other two as Madam Pomfrey walked away.

"Did she just say that? She did not just say that!"

"She did, Padfoot," James said, still laughing. "She very nicely put you in your place."

"Bloody witch," Sirius muttered. Respect coloured his tone and Remus rolled his eyes.

"Go," he said. "I'll be up in a day or so."

"That you will," James agreed.

"And we expect you all bright and chirper, so you can have a nice, _long_ chat with the new bloke," Sirius smirked as he and James got up.

"Yeah, maybe we'll clear out the dorm for you, so you can have your little _chat_," James put in. They both laughed at the look at Remus's face.

"Don't worry Moony, I'm sure he won't turn you away. Not if he was as eager as our informant said he was."

Remus sighed as they left the Wing, still laughing. He really wasn't looking forward to _that_ conversation. He closed his eyes and pulled the covers up, letting the warmth settle his aching body. How the bloody hell was he going to explain this to George? The wolf wasn't who he was. If the older man expected him to be like that all the time… he just hoped George wouldn't take one look and run the opposite direction.

* * *

**A/N – I was going to put George's reaction to Remus in this chapter, but then the James and Sirius wouldn't shut up lol. Something to look forward to next chapter. And 200 followers! Yoohoo! I send virtual cookies to you all! :D**


	16. Digging his toes in

**Disconnected**

Disclaimer: George is stubborn. So am I. Someday I will own Harry Potter. I will, I will, I will!

**Chapter Sixteen – Digging his toes in**

_How the bloody hell was he going to explain this to George? The wolf wasn't who he was. If the older man expected him to be like that all the time… he just hoped George wouldn't take one look and run the opposite direction._

* * *

"Are you alright, Mr Brown?"

George jolted, startled by the voice of the Hospital Wing Matron. He spun around; dragging his eyes away from the retreating figure of the boy who had just snogged him like the world was about to end. His heart was still slamming against his ribcage, his blood still pulsing heat. Everything seemed emphasized, including the embarrassingly short, sharp breathes he was dragging in. He swallowed hard, trying to slow his heart rate.

I didn't work.

"Mr Brown?"

"I'm, ah, I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey," he said, his voice husky. He smiled at her absently, wanting nothing more than to follow Remus and demand to know what the bloody hell had just happened.

_I would have thought it was pretty obvious what just happened, Forgie._

George frowned, momentarily distracted from his still thrumming extremities. Fred sounded weak_._ Not at all like his usual self.

_Are you okay? What's wrong?_

_I don't know,_ Fred whispered. _I'm just… tired, I guess. Think you can handle this on your own for a bit? I need to… rest._

_How can you need to rest? You're a part of me!_

Fred didn't answer. The spot inside his head that his brother occupied – one he hadn't really noticed until now – was blank and empty. This usually would have sent George into a panicked tailspin, and made the hole in his chest pulse, but he was too thoroughly side-tracked at the moment to concentrate on it.

The reminder of Remus turned his head back towards the direction the younger boy had ran off in. He took a step to follow.

"I wouldn't, Mr Brown. Remus is a little volatile at the moment. Maybe wait until the morning to talk to him."

George turned again and his brows drew down in confusion. A little volatile? But why would he be… Hermione's words suddenly came back to him and his eyes widened.

_The full moon's tonight, George, and he's a werewolf._

Holy mother of Merlin. Was _that_ why Remus's usually light green eyes had been slowly swallowed by yellow the closer he'd gotten to George? Because tonight was the full moon and his wolf was taking over? Was that why he'd been so… aggressive?

Not once in the years George had known Professor Lupin had the older wizard given any indication that he was dominate by nature. He'd always been quietly spoken, almost shy, teaching and Teddy being the only things he'd ever really shown any passion in. Even when he'd gotten together with Tonks, the younger witch had been the one who'd done the pursuing. George knew that was because Lupin was a werewolf and he'd thought himself a monster, far too old and no way near good enough for the crazy Auror. Still, he thought that the man would have shown at least a little dominance occasionally if it came to him naturally. He hadn't, or at least not when George was around to see it. Then again, George had never really looked. Aside from a customary appreciative glance – the Professor had been good-looking, even with the scars – George had never been interested enough to look, despite what his brother said.

So, the whole thing, the stalking, growling and that incredibly hot kiss, had been the wolf, not Remus? It made sense, though George hadn't even been aware that the wolf was separate from its host, let alone that it would be interested in another human. That bit didn't make sense. At all.

George didn't know if he was pleased the wolf had made the first move instead of Remus. He was rather confused, as he'd definitely enjoyed the kiss – now there's an understatement – but Remus hadn't initiated it. Had Remus even wanted it?

Had _he_ even wanted it? Would he accept it and participate so easily if it happened again? If Remus was the one to take the plunge next time?

He groaned under his breath, his frustration at not being able to answer any of those questions leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't know what to do. Go after Remus, talk to him, or just pretend it had never happened? He scowled to himself. He really didn't need this right now! He didn't need the twists and snares a relationship would bring, didn't want them. He didn't have anything inside him to put into a relationship. He didn't know if he ever would.

He sighed. He really needed a sounding board, and since his twin was mysteriously absent, there was only one other person he could go to. He shook his head at the fact that he'd even thought of it. A year ago, there would have been no way in any of the depths of hell he would have even _considered_ it.

Tell Hermione Granger, the uptight know-it-all bookworm, his problems? Not bloody likely.

"Mr Brown? I can take care of that mark for you if you like."

George jumped again as the Mediwitch spoke. He'd forgotten she was there. The Matron was looking at him in concern - no, she wasn't looking at him, she was looking at his neck. He frowned as what she'd said registered.

"What mark?" he asked in confusion.

Madam Pomfrey smiled briefly, flicking her wand and conjuring a small hand mirror, which she held up in front of him.

"_That_ mark."

George's jaw dropped as he stared at the deep, purpling bruise sitting right above his collarbone. Bloody hell. Remus had done that? Sure, he'd known the wizard had bitten him quite hard, he'd been shocked at how freaking _hot_ the sharp pain had been, but he hadn't realized he'd left anything behind.

Remus had marked him. The werewolf had left a mark on his skin for the whole world to see.

He groaned silently as his lower half stirred again at that thought. This was _wrong._ A bruise should _not _be arousing, should _not_ make him sit up and stand at attention! It was just a bloody bruise!

He shifted and drew his robes around him. Thank Circe for the length of the material.

"Mr Brown? Do you want me to take care of it?"

George frowned at the Matron. Take care of it? She must mean…

"No!" he blurted, his hand automatically jumping up to cover the mark, to hide it from view "No, I've, ah, I've got it, Madam Pomfrey. I can take care of it."

"If you're sure," the Matron said. When George nodded a bit abruptly, a secretly amused smile crossed her features. "Well then, you better be heading to your common room. Curfew is very soon. That is of course, unless you wanted to see me?"

"No," George said, shaking his head. He didn't think Dreamless Sleep would help him much tonight. "I'll, ah, I'll go. Night, Madam Pomfrey."

"Goodnight, Mr Brown," the Mediwitch called after his quickly retreating back.

Neither of them noticed Theodore Mulciber pull himself back into the shadows, a calculating expression in his artic cold eyes.

~0~

"George? There you are, did you get the Dreamless Sle- hey!"

Hermione scowled furiously as George grabbed her by the arm and dragged her back over to the portrait hole. He ignored the way she threw her friends an apologetic look, as well as the look of curiosity and amusement that passed between Lily and Eloise.

"Guys, it's nearly curfew," the Head Girl called after them.

"Not going far and we won't be long," George called back. He continued to drag Hermione through the entrance, along the corridor and down a set of stairs, only coming to a stop when he'd opened the door to an empty classroom and locked them both inside.

Hermione jerked out of his hold the instant he turned to her.

"What the hell was that about? If you wanted to talk to me, you could have just asked, you know!"

George shrugged. "More fun this way."

"Maybe for you, but I'm the one being man-handled!"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, sister dear. I did want to talk to you, but if you're not interested…?" He turned towards the door.

"Of course I bloody am," Hermione grumbled and George grinned to himself before turning around again. "I just don't like being taken somewhere against my will. I had enough of that during the war, thank you very much."

George cringed slightly. "Shit, sorry, I didn't think."

"Obviously," Hermione said dryly. She leaned back against a desk and folded her arms. "Now, what's so important that you had to- what's that on your neck?"

"Nothing," George answered quickly, his hand once again going up to cover the bruise.

"That's a pretty big nothing," Hermione pointed out, stepping away from the desk and approaching him. "Here, let me see."

She reached for George's hand and tugged it down, angling his head and lighting the tip of her wand so she could see better. George muttered under his breath but let her look. If he was going to keep the thing – and considering he'd nearly panicked when Madam Pomfrey had offered to remove it for him, he was – he was going to have to get used to people looking. It wasn't something he could hide easily.

Hermione let out a sharp hiss as she stared down at the mark. "Merlin, that must of hurt. What happened?"

Figuring it was as good a place to start as any, George opened his mouth to tell her as she stepped back, only to close it again and frown. Suddenly he didn't want to tell her. He didn't want to tell anyone. The mark and what had led up to it seemed almost too private to talk about.

Which was just stupid. Since when had he been shy about his love-life?

"George?"

"Remus gave it to me," he forced out, pushing aside his ridiculous reluctance. Hermione's brows flew at his answer.

"_Remus_ gave it to you? How?" Her eyes narrowed. "You haven't been duelling, have you?"

She answered her own question before George could even open his mouth.

"No, you can't have been, Remus would never duel with you and that mark looks more like a bite than anything else… good Godric."

She shot over to George and shoved his head back again, his frantic gaze zeroing in on the mark.

"Hey, watch it!"

"Remus _bit_ you? Are you okay? It didn't break the skin so nothing would have been passed on, but we better get rid of it just in case-"

"_No!_" George shot out, throwing himself backwards, away from the startled witch. "It's not going anywhere!"

"But, George, he bit you, and he's a werewolf! Even in human form that's a bad thing, and-"

"It's a bad thing if the werewolf does it to cause deliberate harm 'Mione! Remus didn't! I don't even think he was aware he was doing it! As you said, he didn't even break the skin! We were snogging and it just happened!"

"You were… snogging?" Hermione repeated slowly after a moment, her face blank with surprise. "And it just… happened?"

"Is there an echo in here?" George wondered, searching the room.

"WHY THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU SNOGGING REMUS FOR, GEORGE?! WE'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE MAKING WAVES OF ANY KIND! ARE YOU COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY OUT OF YOUR MIND?"

_Ding, ding, got it in one,_ George thought, but didn't say out loud. Instead, he rolled his eyes.

"What did I say about knickers, 'Mione? Pull yours out of your arse, would you? It wasn't something that was planned, I didn't even start it! Remus kissed _me_, not the other way round!"

"Oh. Err, okay then," Hermione said and George smirked at how thoroughly he'd just sucked the wind out of her sails. "And he just bit you during?"

"Yeah," George sighed, his fingers running over the mark almost unconsciously. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

He then proceeded to tell the witch everything that had happened from the moment he'd starting towards the Hospital Wing and had seen Remus leaning against the wall. He couldn't help smirking at the way Hermione's cheeks flushed and she hurriedly looked away when he described the kiss – in greater detail then he normally would have, snickering silently at the uncomfortable and almost wondering look on the witch's face. Merlin, the girl was innocent! The female third of the Golden Trio may have faced, led others and lived through the war, but when it came to anything sexual, it looked like his little brother hadn't sealed the deal. Going by the fidgeting, it looked like he hadn't even put his cards on the table.

Blimey, Ron was an idiot at times.

"His eyes were yellow?" Hermione clarified after he'd finished. "_Before_ he kissed you?" She pursed her lips when George nodded. "Hhmm."

"What's 'hhmm'?" he questioned.

"I'm not sure. I think I remember reading something… come on."

She grabbed his hand and headed for the door, unlocking it quickly and turning to him just before stepping through.

"What's the quickest way to get to the library from here?"

"Through the passage way behind the Hungry Hippogriff," George answered. "Why? The library will be closed by now."

"So?" Hermione said as she turned in the direction he'd pointed. "We need to know something and the library is where we'll find it."

"But it's now after curfew!" George exclaimed, quickly following her.

"So?" Hermione said again, throwing a smirk over her shoulder. "Come on George, don't be such a stick-in-the-mud."

"Hermione Granger deliberately breaking the rules?" George breathed as he slipped into the dark passage behind the bushy-haired witch. "My, how things have changed."

Hermione huffed. "Merlin, it's only a stupid curfew! It's not like we're doing anything that'll get us a sentence in Azkaban! Besides, some rules are just meant to be broken."

George grinned and didn't say anything else until they got to the end of the passage and snuck up to the library doors. He liked this new Hermione.

"It's in here," the witch whispered as she reached for the handle. "I remember reading it for that horrible essay Snape made us write in third year-"

She frowned when the handle moved but the doors didn't open.

"Since when did they lock the library doors at night?"

"Beat's me," George replied, "but it's easy enough to fix." He pulled out his wand. "_Alohomora."_

Hermione smirked at him when there was no click and the doors stayed locked. "If they lock the doors at night, don't you think they'd do it in some way that would beat the Unlocking Spell?"

"Yeah, alright, makes sense," George muttered. "Your turn then, Miss Brightest Witch of her Age. Don't know about you, but I only know of one Unlocking Spell."

"There _are _other ways to unlock a door, though," Hermione said with a mysterious smile. George cocked his brow and waved her forward, wanting to see what she was going to do. His eyes widened when she reached up and pulled a couple of bobby pins from her hair. She grimaced as they caught, but she eventually got them out.

"_You _know how to pick a lock?" he spluttered, completely floored as she straightened the pins and stuck them in the lock.

"Course I do," Hermione grinned, wiggling her makeshift picks. "Don't you?"

"Sure, but I own a joke shop, for Merlin's sake!" His mouth fell open when he heard a very distinctive click and Hermione pushed the door open. "Holy hell, it worked! How – _when _ did you learn to do that?!"

"Summer before fifth year," the witch answered quietly, her smug expression quickly transforming into a look of sadness as they walked into the dark library, lit wands leading the way. "Sirius taught me."

"Sirius taught you? But how… oh. _That _Sirius."

"Yeah. _That _Sirius," she murmured. "He taught Harry as well, and tried to teach Ron, but your buffoon of a brother didn't have the patience for it."

"He wouldn't," George agreed, following Hermione into the depths of the stacks. "Lock picking is an art. Ron would never have the sense for it."

"That's what Sirius said," Hermione muttered as she ran her finger along the spines, making George smirk. Sirius had never liked Ron all that much. George had once heard him complaining to Lupin that him being so loyal to Harry was one of the only redeeming qualities he had.

"Here it is," Hermione said, pulling a book off the shelf. She opened it quickly and flicked through the pages, her eyes lighting when she found what she was looking for.

"Listen to this. 'Werewolves aren't usually social creatures, the pack that normal wolves live and travel in not applying to these creatures of darkness.' Stupid prejudice book. Anyway, 'But some aspects of a wolf's life has translated into its supernatural counterpart, including the ability to have and take a Mate, the human that is destined to be theirs.'"

"A Mate?" George queried, feeling a little gobsmacked. "Werewolves have Mates?"

"Not all of them," Hermione said in a distracted tone. "It goes on. 'Though all werewolves have the potential to have a Mate, only about one percent actually find theirs. It is rare for a werewolf to find and recognize it's other half, as there are so few werewolves and many more humans. A Mate can only be found on the Full Moon, as the human side of the werewolf won't recognize the person – they will only find themselves wanting to be around and please that person a little more than they would have normally. If a Mate is found, and that Mate comes in contact with the human right before he or she changes, then the werewolf's instincts will take over, and the human half will do everything it can to'… bloody hell."

"What? What is it?"

Hermione looked up. "It says that the human will do everything it can to mark the Mate as its own, and once transformed, the werewolf will try it's best to get to its Mate and claim it."

George swallowed hard, his hand going to his neck.

"Claim it? What does that mean?"

"It doesn't say," Hermione answered softly.

"What do you mean, it doesn't say?" he yelped, lunging for the book. His eyes widened as he frantically read the passage. "How can it bloody well not say?! Do they not realize how important this it?!"

"As the author probably didn't know that an actual Mate was going to be reading this, then most likely not."

George's head jerked up and he stared at the witch in front of him. "I'm Remus's Mate?" he whispered.

"You're the one with a mark from a werewolf on his neck, George."

He continued to stare as disbelief and shock ran rampant through his system.

"No," he said, dropping the book and stepping back, holding up his hands. "No, no, no, no, no. That's not going to happen."

"It's not?" Hermione questioned before she shook her head. "I mean, of course it's not. That's clearly a given."

"How can I be his Mate?" George asked, running his hand through his hair in agitation. "I've been around him during the Moon before and nothing like that has ever happened! He taught us for a full year and he never once tried to attack me!"

"Maybe… maybe the Wolfsbane had something to do with that," Hermione suggested thoughtfully. "It subdues the wolf, right? Gives Remus control during the Moon. And the one time he unintentionally let the wolf out…" she shuddered at the memory. "Maybe it was too overwhelmed to concentrate on anything but being free."

"So, what, now he's going to… _claim_ me?"

"No, he's not, because we won't let him," Hermione said forcefully, taking George's hand. "He won't hurt you, George, I promise."

_Maybe the claiming won't hurt, Georgie, did you ever think of that?_

_Fred! You're back! Are you okay?_

_Good as a dead person can be, twinster._

George snorted and shook his head when Hermione looked at him curiously. He focused inward again as she turned back to the shelves.

_Why do you think that claiming won't hurt?_

_Did the marking hurt? Bad hurt I mean?_

George shivered as that moment played back through his mind. _Umm, n-no. No, it didn't._

_So why do you think the claiming will? You may end up enjoying it just as much as you did the marking, maybe more._

_But the book says he'll be a wolf when he claims me! Sorry mate, but I'm _really_ not into bestiality at all._

Fred laughed. _Thank Merlin for that! The book also doesn't say what happens during the claiming, Georgie! Stop making assumptions! _

_Pretty bloody hard not too, _George grumbled. He frowned as his twin's laughter continued.

_Going by the way Remus has been taking care of you these past weeks; I don't think the wolf will hurt you. It'll probably just do something that will let everyone know who you belong too._

_I belong to me, not anyone else!_

_Well, change is on the horizon, brother mine,_ Fred murmured. _You never know, you may end up liking it._

George sighed and shook his head again. That wasn't going to happen. _Nothing_ was going to happen between him and Remus. Nothing could happen. They weren't even from the same time period!

_You're making excuses. _

_I am not!_

_You are. I know you're scared George, I would be too. Everyone fears the unknown. But I don't really think that's it, is it? At least not all of it. I think you'd be scared even if Remus wasn't a werewolf. You'd still be pushing him away if he was just a normal wizard. Why is that, Georgie?_

George scowled and turned to Hermione, steadily ignoring his brother. The witch was still searching, without much luck. She finally sighed and turned back to him.

"I don't think we'll find anything else tonight. I need time to research."

"Okay, fine, let's head back to the common room then," George said, more than ready to drop the subject. Hermione nodded.

"Sure. But I will find an answer, George, I guarantee it. I'm not going to anything happen to you."

George didn't answer as they left the library. He was incredibly confused and more than a little upset. He liked Remus, a lot, and that kiss had been one of the hottest things he'd ever experienced. But he knew if he got together with him, he'd end up falling hard for the wizard, and that was something he just wasn't going to allow to happen.

_You're making a mistake, Georgie._

_Just… just shove off, Fred, alright? It's my mistake to make, not yours._

His twin was silent and George let out a silent sigh of relief.

Losing Fred had nearly destroyed him. Losing someone else he loved on top of that, would finally succeed in breaking him to pieces, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to pull himself back together again.

* * *

**A/N - Stubborn George. What do you all think? Let me know! **

**Just to let everyone know, as of the next chapter the rating will be going up. There won't be anything in that chapter to warrant the change, but there will be violence down the line, both physical and sexual. It won't be rape, but it will be non-consensual. It won't be graphic. I just thought I'd put the rating up early as a warning, and I'll post further warnings as we get closer to the scene. **

**Thanks everyone for reading! **


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